WORKS  OF  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

PUBLISHKD  BY 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS     NEW-YORK. 

A  new  and  revised  Edition  of 

THE  AMERICAN  IN  ENGLAND. 

In  2  vols.  12mo. 


In  press  and  will  be  ready  for  delivery  in  May, 

A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

Third  Edition  enlarged. 

In  3  vols.  12mo.,  with  vignette  embellishments  after  designs 
by  J.  G,  Chapman,  Esq. 


XcwYork.  Hiu-per.1-  l!i-,.tht-rs 
1836  . 


Slide.// 


YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN. 


Bien  se  lo  que  son  tcntaciones  del  demonic,  y  que  una  de  las  mayores  es 
poneile  a  un  hombre  en  el  entendimiento  que  puede  componer  y  imprimir  un 
libro,  con  que  gane  tanla  fania  como  dineros,  y  tamos  dineros  cuanta  lama. 

CKRVANTKS. 


THIRD  EDITION  ENLARGED. 

IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 

VOL.  I. 


NEW-YORK: 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    CLIFF-ST. 

1836. 


DP 
41 


V. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1836. 

By  HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New- York. 


TO 


ALEXANDER  H.  EVERETT,  ESQ., 

LATE    MINISTER  PLENIPOTENTIARY  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES 

TO  SPAIN, 
Cjjese  Volumes  ate  respectfully  De&ieateB 


ADVERTISEMENT 

TO   THE   THIRD   EDITION. 


THE  present  work  contained  originally  a  much  greater 
quantity  of  matter  than  in  the  form  of  its  previous  pub- 
lication. It  was  the  intention  of  the  writer  to  publish 
a  complete  account  of  his  travels  in  Spain  ;  but,  finding 
that  his  book  grew  in  a  manner  truly  alarming  to  an 
unpractised  author,  and  fearing  that  to  cut  down  and 
generalize  would  take  from  the  narrative  whatever 
merit  it  might  possess,  he  preferred  rather  to  strike 
out  entirely  a  sufficient  portion  to  reduce  it  to  more 
moderate  dimensions.  This  portion  is  now  restored, 
comprising  the  whole  of  the  third  volume  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  concluding  chapter. 

June,  1836. 

1* 


PREFACE. 


GIVING  his  Satanic  Majesty  due  credit  for  the  tempta- 
tion mentioned  in  our  motto,  the  present  work  originated 
in  a  desire  to  convey  some  notion  of  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  Spanish  nation.  The  writer  found  much 
that  was  peculiar  and  interesting  in  them,  and  was 
thence  led  to  think,  that  what  had  furnished  so  much 
pleasure  in  the  immediate  study,  might  not  be  wholly 
unattractive  when  contemplated  through  the  secondary 
medium  of  description.  Though  this  object  should  not 
be  attained  by  the  work  now  offered  to  the  public,  it 
may,  perhaps,  serve  to  attract  attention  to  a  country 
which,  though  inferior  to  none  in  interest,  has  been 
almost  entirely  neglected  by  tourists. 

The  author  merely  proposes  to  enable  those  who 
have  not  visited  Spain,  and  have  no  expectation  of  doing 
so,  to  form  an  idea  of  the  country  and  its  inhabitants, 
without  abandoning  the  comforts  and  security  of  the 
fireside.  As  for  the  traveller,  he  may  find  most  of  the 
local  information  he  may  require  in  Antillon's  Geogra- 
phy, and  Laborde's  View  of  Spain.  He  will  do  well  to 
journey  with  as  little  state  as  possible,  and  to  keep  to 
the  popular  conveyances ;  for  he  will  be  thus  most 
likely  to  avoid  unpleasant  interruption,  and  have  favour- 
able opportunities  for  observing  the  manners  of  the 
people.  Nor  should  he  fail  to  follow  the  old  adage  of 
conforming  to  the  customs  of  the  land,  among  a  people 
who,  more  than  any  other,  are  attached  to  their  peculiar 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

usages ;  to  smother  his  disgust  at  whatever  may  be  in 
contradiction  to  the  habits  and  institutions  of  his  own 
country ;  above  all,  to  exhibit  no  irreverence  for  their  re 
ligious  ceremonies ;  to  enter  their  temples  with  a  sense 
of  solemnity,  if  not  due,  in  his  opinion,  to  their  forms  of 
worship,  due  at  least  to  the  dread  Being  to  whom  that 
worship  is  addressed ;  in  short,  to  respect  outwardly 
whatever  they  respect,  down  to  their  very  prejudices. 
The  traveller  who  makes  this  his  rule  of  action  in 
Spain,  will  not  fare  the  worse  by  the  way,  and  will  not 
think  the  worse  of  himself,  for  this  exercise  of  charity, 
when  arrived  at  the  end  of  his  journey. 

If,  by  any  accident,  this  work  should  find  favour 
among  his  countrymen,  some  apology  for  the  many 
faults  which,  though  hidden  from  the  author,  will  be 
obvious  enough  to  nicer  eyes,  may  be  found  in  disqual- 
ifications for  the  task  which  every  one  will  appreciate — 
the  inexperience  of  youth,  and  the  disadvantages  of  an 
interrupted  education. 

Some  reason  may,  perhaps,  be  required  for  the 
work's  being  put  forth  without  a  name.  The  author's 
name  would  ensure  it  no  acceptation  ;  and  there  would, 
besides,  be  little  modesty  in  appearing  as  the  hero  of  a 
narrative,  which,  to  be  interesting,  must  become  egotis- 
tical and  exclusive.  If  it  should  succeed,  the  author 
will  not  enjoy  it  the  less,  that  he  will  enjoy  it  in  secret. 
But  he  dreads  the  contrary.  The  difficulties  which  he 
has  encountered  in  procuring  publication  are  ominous 
of  evil,  and  he  would  willingly  avoid  the  odium  of  hav- 
ing made  a  bad  book. 

Boston,  January,  1829. 


CONTENTS 

OP 

THE    FIRST   VOLUME. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ROUSILLON   AND    CATALONIA. 

Impressions  of  France — Provence— Face  of  the  Country — Journey  to 
Spain — The  Diligence — Fellow-Passengers — The  Lady  and  the  Officer 
— The  Pyrenees— Junquera — Catalan  Language— Figueras — The  La- 
dy's Husband— Gerona — Fording  Scene — Tordera — A  Catalan  Village 
—Coast  of  Catalonia— Barcelona— The  Fonda— Rambla  .  .  Page  13 

CHAPTER    II. 

CATALONIA. 

Barcelona — Environs — The  Noria — History  of  Barcelona — First  Steam- 
boat— Present  Condition  of  Barcelona — Departure  for  Valencia — Team 
of  Mules— Mornine  Scene— Murder  of  a  Bishop— Road  to  Tarragona — 
Management  of  Mules — Traits  of  Mulish  Character — Tarragona  .  40 

CHAPTER   III. 

JOURNEY   TO    VALENCIA. 

New  Travelling  Companions — Departure  from  Tarragona— The  Ebro— 
Amposta — New  Costume — Supper  Scene — Manners  of  Travellers — 
Journey  Renewed — The  Arrest — Valencian  Brigands — The  Murdered 
Pepe — Spanish  Justice — Vinaroz — Pepe's  Mother — Road-side  Crosses — 
Escort— Saguntum — Valencia 62 

CHAPTER  IV. 

VALENCIA   AND   MADRID. 

Kingdom  of  Valencia — Past  History— Present  Condition— Departure  for 
Madrid — San  Felipe  and  Mogente— Central  Plateau  of  Spain— Change 
of  Climate  and  Costume — Almansa — El  Toboso — The  Windmills — The 
Spanish  Colonel — The  Inn  of  Quintanar — Ocaaa— Aran  uez — Madrid  88 

A3 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    V. 

LODGINGS    IN   MADRID. 

Don  Diego  the  Impurificado — His  History  and  Appearance — Street  of  Al- 
cala— The  Gate  of  the  Sun — A  Bravo— A  Review— The  Royal  Guard — 
Don  Valentin  Todohueso — His  Life — His  Gacetas  and  Diarios — His  Per- 
son and  Politeness — His  Daughter — His  House  and  Household — His 
Mode  of  Life Page  125 

CHAPTER    VI. 

MADRID. 

Kingdom  of  New  Castile — Situation  of  Madrid— Climate — History — Gen- 
eral Description — Gallician  Watermen — The  Five  Royal  Palaces — 
Churches — Museum  of  Paintings — The  Spanish  School — Academy  of 
San  Fernando — Museum  of  Armour — Charitable  and  Scientific  Institu- 
tions— Royal  Library 150 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PUBLIC   AMUSEMENTS. 

Spanish  Drama  —  Its  Fertility — Calderon  —  Tragedy — The  Sainete — Its 
Popular  Character — Theatres  of  the  Cross  and  Prince— Arrangement 
of  Houses — Actors — La  Torre — Guzman — Actresses — The  Prompter — 
The  Bolero— The  Fandango— The  Cachucha 185 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    BULL-FEAST. 

Its  Origin — The  Royal  Feasts — Their  Magnificence — Noble  Combatants — 
The  Spear — Modern  Fight — The  Arena — Winter  Feast — Young  Bulls 
— The  Audience— Opening  of  the  Feast — The  Chulos— The  Picadores — 
The  Bull— The  Fight— The  Horses— The  Matadore— The  Death  201 

CHAPTER   IX. 

THE    PASEO. 

The  Prado— The  Fountains — The  Paseadores— The  Madrilena  and  Mad- 
rilefio — The  Cloak  and  Mantilla — Equipages — Royal  Cortege — Moral 
of  the  Paseo— Feast  of  St.  Anthony — The  Promenade — Convent  of  Es- 
culapius — Charms  and  Benedictions — Blessing  the  Barley — Beggars — 
Blind  Men— The  Lottery— The  Hog-Lottery— The  Memorialista  .  220 


CONTENTS.  xi 

CHAPTER  X. 

AN   EXECUTION. 

Plazuela  de  la  Cebada — Its  Ordinary  uses — Present  Appearance — Spanish 
Executions — The  Gallows  and  Verdugo — The  Multitude — Delay — The 
Procession — The  Condemned — The  Friar — The  Catastrophe  Page  250 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ROUSILLON   AND    CATALONIA. 

Impressions  of  France — Provence — Face  of  the  Country — Journey  to 
Spain — The  Diligence— Fellow-Passengers — The  Lady  and  the  Officer 
—The  Pyrenees — Junquera — Catalan  Language — Figueras — The  La- 
dy's Husband— Gerona — Fording  Scene — Tordera — A  Catalan  Village 
—Coast  of  Catalonia — Barcelona — The  Fonda — Rambla. 

HAVING  passed  a  year  in  France,  and  made  the  circuit 
of  most  of  the  provinces  with  great  delight,  I  found  my- 
self in  Rousillon,  in  October  of  1826,  at  the  close  of  my 
tour,  and  prepared  in  some  sort  to  compare  my  impres- 
sions. Touraine  and  the  Orleanais  had  equalled  my  high- 
est expectations ;  with  a  fertile,  well-cultivated,  and  abun- 
dantly productive  country  ;  scenery  of  a  peaceful,  quiet  cast, 
yet  full  of  attraction ;  a  people  honest,  kind-hearted,  and 
unaffectedly  polite,  speaking  the  best  French  in  the  whole 
kingdom,  and  worthy  in  all  things  to  do  the  honours  of 
their  country,  it  was  impossible  to  be  otherwise  than  grati- 
fied there.  I  had  found  Normandy  by  turns  rugged  and 
beautiful,  with  a  coarse,  rude,  scheming,  yet  brave  and  la- 
borious, population  ;  the  North,  wet,  smoky,  and  hypochon- 
driac, with  inhabitants  busy,  bustling,  and  great  drinkers  of 
strong  beer ;  the  East  assimilating  itself,  by  turns,  to  the 
neighbouring  countries  of  Netherlands,  Germany,  or  Swit- 
zerland ;  Dauphine  more  beautiful  than  Italy ;  the  valley 
of  the  Isere,  worthy  of  being  called  the  valley  of  Paradise. 
2 


14  A   YEAR    IN   SPAIN. 

All  this  I  was  in  a  measure  prepared  for,  and  it  therefore 
brought  no  disappointment.  But  in  the  South  of  France 
I  was  doomed  to  have  all  my  expectations  reversed.  I  had 
been  taught  to  associate  it  with  whatever  is  lovely  in  na- 
ture ;  I  had  cast,  in  imagination,  the  face  of  the  country 
into  a  succession  of  hill  and  dale ;  I  had  watered  it  with 
many  streams  ;  the  hill-tops  were  crowned  with  forest-trees, 
and  the  slopes  devoted  to  fruit-orchards,  with  the  vine 
stretching  itself  abroad  in  festoons  from  tree  to  tree, 
while  the  valleys  were  spread  out  into  meadows  of  the 
brightest  verdure,  and  animated  by  herds  of  cattle.  The 
villages,  too,  were  to  be  neat,  and  the  houses  well  white- 
washed, each  with  its  little  arbour  and  clambering  grape- 
vine. Nor  was  this  Arcadian  region  to  be  peopled  with 
unworthy  inhabitants  ;  the  women  were  to  be  beautiful,  and 
well-made  young  men  were  to  be  seen  everywhere,  lead- 
ing them  off  in  the  graceful  mazes  of  the  dance.  This  pic- 
ture was  not  entirely  gratuitous ;  for  my  guide-book  had 
sanctioned  the  most  extravagant  reveries,  by  telling  me,  in 
doggerel  and  impious  rhyme,  that,  if  God  were  to  take  up 
his  abode  upon  earth,  it  would  surely  be  in  Rousillon. 

Such,  however,  I  did  not  find  the  original.  The  surface 
of  the  country  was  indeed  broken ;  but  I  looked  in  vain 
for  the  meandering  streams  which  my  fancy  had  created. 
Forest-trees  there  were  none ;  and  the  hill-sides,  though 
devoted  to  the  cultivation  of  the  vine,  were  destitute  of 
fruit-trees.  This  favoured  plant,  which  furnishes  man 
with  so  much  comfort,  and  the  poet  with  so  many  associa- 
tions, is  here  laid  out  in  detached  roots,  placed  at  conve>- 
nient  distances  from  each  other.  In  the  spring,  the  shoots 
of  the  last  season  are  pruned  close  to  the  ground ;  three  or 
four  new  ones  spring  up  from  the  stump  ;  and  these,  whem 
they  can  no  longer  sustain  themselves  erect,  are  supported 
by  small  poles  planted  beside  them.  Thus  a  vineyard  ia 
the  South  of  France,  when  most  luxuriant,  greatly  resero- 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  15 

bles  an  American  bean-field.  In  October,  however,  the 
case  was  very  different ;  the  vine,  having  yielded  its  fruit, 
no  longer  received  the  care  of  the  cultivator ;  the  props 
had  been  removed,  to  be  preserved  for  the  next  season,  and 
the  leaves,  already  scorched  and  deprived  of  their  ver- 
dure, had  been  blown  away  by  the  last  mistral — a  strong 
north  wind,  which,  alternating  suddenly  with  the  warm, 
breezes  of  the  Mediterranean,  produces  the  effect  of  the 
roost  intense  cold.  The  mournful  olive  added  a  grave-yard 
solemnity  to  the  picture,  and  the  parched  valleys,  instead 
of  being  green  with  herbage,  showed  nothing  but  a  burnt- 
up  stubble,  to  tell  that  they  had  once  been  verdant.  Though 
goats  were  occasionally  discovered,  climbing  the  hills  in 
search  of  their  subsistence,  sheep,  and  oxen,  and  droves  of 
horses  were  nowhere  to  be  seen.  The  villages,  though 
frequent  and  populous,  were  any  thing  but  neat ;  the  streets 
were  filthy,  and  the  dwellings  neglected.  It  is  true,  how- 
ever, that  the  women  were  beautiful:  their  glowing  eyes 
and  arch  expression  denoted  passionate  feeling  and  intelli- 
gence, while  their  ruddy  hue  and  symmetric  conformation 
gave  assurance  that  they  were  both  healthy  and  agile.  The 
men,  too,  were  well  made,  and  of  larger  size  than  is  general 
in  France  ;  but,  though  the  wine-presses  were  still  reeking 
from  the  vintage,  there  was  no  music,  no  song,  and  no 
dance.  That  the  Provencaux  were  noisy  and  turbulent,  I 
had  already  been  told ;  but  I  had  occasion  to  make  the  re- 
mark for  myself  at  a  bull-fight  in  the  amphitheatre  of  Nis- 
mes,  and  at  an  execution  in  Montpelier,  where  I  first  beheld 
the  fatal  guillotine.  The  conductor  of  the  diligence  grew 
harsh  and  brutal,  and  even  the  French  postillion,  that 
model  of  good-natured  civility,  beat  his  horses  harder,  and 
became  more  surly,  as  I  approached  the  Pyrenees. 

I  had  promised  myself,  long  before,  to  spend  a  year  of 
remaining  leisure  in  Spain,  and  I  now  determined  to  cany 
my  purpose  into  immediate  execution.  My  motives  for 


16  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

going  to  a  country  which  travellers  ordinarily  avoid,  \rere  a 
wish  to  perfect  myself  in  a-  language  which  is  becoming  so 
important  in  the  hemisphere  which  it  divides  with  our  own, 
and  a  strong  desire  to  visit  scenes  so  full  of  interest  and 
attraction.  It  chanced  that  a  young  Frenchman,  with 
whom  I  had  come  to  Perpignan,  had  the  same  intention. 
He  had  been  in  Germany,  Russia,  and  England,  and  spoke 
our  language  with  a  fluency  which  Frenchmen  rarely  at- 
tain. We  had  sat  beside  each  other  in  the  diligence,  and 
our  conversation,  among  other  things,  had  revealed  our  mu- 
tual plans  ;  so  we  agreed  to  keep  on  in  company  to  Barce- 
lona. We  were  yet  talking  over  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments with  our  landlady,  when  our  group  was  joined  by  a 
discontented  old  captain  of  foot,  who  had  fought  beside 
Dugommier,  when  he  fell  in  battle  in  the  neighbouring 
Pyrenees,  and  who  had  remained  stationary  since  the 
downfall  of  Napoleon.  '  As  he  also  had  been  our  fellow- 
passenger  the  day  before,  he  could  not  see  us  go  into  Spain 
without  a  word  of  warning.  He  said  that  he  had  just  seen 
a  friend  who  had  come  lately  from  Zaragoza,  and  who  had 
been  twice  plundered  on  the  way ;  and  endeavoured,  by 
drawing  a  terrible  picture  of  the  state  of  the  country,  to 
deter  us  from  trusting  ourselves  in  a  land  where,  according 
to  him,  we  might  be  robbed  and  murdered  at  any  hour  of 
the  day.  This,  however,  was  but  a  trifling  impediment  to 
men  already  resolved.  There  was  a  fair  chance  of  esca- 
ping untouched,  while  the  little  danger  that  might  be  incur- 
red would  heighten  the  pleasure  of  every  scene  and  inci- 
dent, reached  with  some  risk,  and  enjoyed  with  a  sense  of 
insecurity ;  and  even  to  be  pounced  upon  on  the  highway, 
and  thence  carried  off,  like  Gil  Bias,  to  some  subterranean 
cave,  to  feast  with  the  bandits  on  the  fat  of  the  land,  and 
be  instrumental  in  saving  some  beautiful  widow,  were  no 
bad  alternative.  So,  our  journey  was  determined  upon; 
and  having  taken  our  seats  in  the  interior  of  the  diligence, 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  17 

which  was  to  set  out  early  the  next  morning,  and  having 
bought  Spanish  gold  with  our  French  money,  we  returned 
to  the  hotel,  to  eat  our  last  meal  in  France.  Quitting  the 
table,  where  a  party  of  friendly  and  social  commercial  trav- 
ellers, who  had  never  seen  each  other  before,  and  might 
never  see  each  other  again,  were  discussing,  in  the  most 
earnest  and  familiar  manner,  the  relative  merits  of  their  re- 
spective departments,  we  withdrew  early  to  bed.  We  went 
more  reluctantly  forth  the  next  morning,  before  dawn,  at 
the  summons  of  the  porter  ;  and  by  the  time  we  had  seated 
ourselves,  the  horses  were  harnessed,  and,  the  gates  of  the 
town  being  open,  we  rattled  over  the  drawbridge,  and  took 
leave  of  Perpignan. 

For  some  time  after  our  departure,  each  continued  sleep- 
ing or  ruminating  in  his  peculiar  corner  ;  but  by-and-by  the 
day  stole  gradually  upon  us,  until  the  sun  rose  at  last  above 
the  horizon,  sending  its  rays  through^the  broken  clouds, 
which  grew  thinner  as  we  advanced.  I  was  now  enabled 
to  discover  something  of  the  economy  of  our  diligence,  and 
to  speculate  with  more  certainty  upon  the  profession  and 
character  of  my  fellow-passengers,  than  I  had  been  en- 
abled to  do  when  we  took  our  seats,  by  the  light  of  a  single 
lantern. 

One  of  the  first  things  with  which  the  traveller  is  brought 
into  contact  on  his  arrival  in  France,  and  which,  as  much 
as  any  other,  attracts  his  attention,  is  the  public  coach,  very 
gratuitously  named  the  diligence.  This  most  curious  of  ve- 
hicles is  composed  of  three  distinct  chambers  or  cabins  for 
passengers.  From  without,  it  has  the  appearance  of  as 
many  carriages,  of  different  constructions,  which  have 
formed  themselves  into  a  copartnership  for  the  public  ac- 
commodation. The  front  part,  called  the  coupe,  or  cabri- 
olet, resembles  those  oldfashioned  chariots,  that  have  only 
a  back  seat,  with  windows  in  front  and  at  the  side.  Here 
three  passengers  may  be  very  comfortable  ;  for  the  seats 
2* 


18  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

are  much  more  roomy  than  with  us,  and  an  extra  passenger 
is  never  crowded  in ;  each  seat,  too,  is  numbered,  and,  on 
taking  your  place,  it  is  marked  upon  your  ticket,  and  all 
cause  of  difficulty  and  altercation  is  obviated.  As  an  addi- 
tional convenience,  the  sides  and  backs  of  the  seats  are 
cushioned  up  to  the  top,  and  over  head  are  bands  for  pla- 
cing hats,  for  which  nightcaps  of  silk  or  cotton  are  usually 
substituted.  Equipped  with  one  of  these,  a  passenger  can 
not  only  read,  but  sleep  with  some  comfort  in  the  diligence, 
which,  from  its  slow  rate  of  about  five  miles  an  hour,  is 
forced  to  travel  all  night,  in  order  to  make  a  tolerable  prog- 
ress. The  interior  carries  six  passengers,  who  sit  on  two 
benches,  facing  each  other ;  and  the  rotunda,  which,  though 
the  after-cabin,  is  not  the  post  of  honour,  an  equal  number. 
Last  comes  the  imperial ;  so  called,  doubtless,  from  its 
stately  appearance  ;  for  it  stands  upon  the  summit,  and  is 
covered  at  pleasure  with  a  leathern  top.  From  this  proud 
elevation  the  captain  of  the  diligence  overlooks  all  the  con- 
cerns of  his  land-ship,  and  gives  his  orders  with  the  per- 
emptory air  of  one  accustomed  to  command.  In  a  square 
box  at  the  back  of  the  conductor,  which  occupies  the  whole 
roof,  the  baggage  is  stowed,  and  covered  with  a  leathern 
apron ;  a  singular  assortment  of  trunks,  bags,  dogs,  mon- 
keys, bandboxes,  and  parrots.  The  whole  fabric  rests  upon 
horizontal  springs,  which  are  in  turn  sustained  by  frame- 
work and  wheels  of  corresponding  solidity.  Five  horses 
are  sufficient,  over  the  fine  roads  of  France,  to  form  the 
team  of  this  moving  mountain :  one  is  attached  on  each 
side  of  the  pole,  the  remaining  three  go  more  sociably  to- 
gether on  the  lead.  The  whole  are  driven  by  a  postillion, 
who  best  rides  the  left  wheel  horse,  and  who,  from  the  sin- 
gularity of  his  costume,  and  the  incredible  size  and  heavi- 
ness of  his  boots,  is  by  far  the  most  wonderful  particular 
of  this  truly  wonderful  whole.  The  immense  weight  of 
these  vehicles,  when  overladen  and  top-heavy — for  they 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  19 

also  carry  freight — renders  them  very  difficult  to  manage  in 
a  long  descent  The  wheels  are  shod  as  a  matter  of  course, 
but  the  chains  which  hold  them,  and  keep  the  wheels  from 
revolving,  sometimes  break,  when  the  horses,  to  save  them- 
selves from  being  run  over,  are  forced  to  set  off  at  a  gallop. 
As  the  momentum,  however,  is  constantly  increasing,  they 
cannot  long  preserve  their  station  in  advance.  They  are 
at  length  overtaken,  and  crushed  by  the  resistless  impetus 
of  the  mass,  which  passes  over  them,  and  is  at  the  same 
time  overturned,  or,  being  diverted  from  its  course,  is  pre- 
cipitated over  the  roadside.  Fearful  accidents  of  this  na- 
ture sometimes  occur ;  and  on  the  road  between  Geneva 
and  Lyons,  which  passes  over  the  Jura,  they  are  not  un- 
frequent. 

My  attention,  when  the  day  had  dawned,  was  first  at- 
tracted to  the  portion  of  the  diligence  in  which  I  rode. 
My  former  companion  was  beside  me,  and  in  front  of  us 
were  a  lady  and  gentleman.  The  latter  was  an  officer, 
some  thirty  or  forty  years  old,  with  a  mixture  of  fearless- 
•  ness  and  good-humour  in  his  countenance.  He  wore  the 
broad-breasted  capote  of  blue,  peculiar  to  the  French  in- 
fantry, and  had  the  number  of  his  regiment  engraved  upon 
his  buttons.  A  leathern  sword-belt  hung  from  his  left 
pocket-flap,  and  on  his  head  was  a  military  bonnet  of  cloth, 
with  the  French  lily  embroidered.  His  beard  was  of  some 
days  standing,  indicating  the  time  he  had  been  upon  his 
journey  ;  and  his  long  mustaches  hung  about  his  mouth, 
neglected  and  crest-fallen.  When  the  sun  rose,  however, 
he  hastened  to  twist  them  up,  until  they  stood  fiercely 
from  his  face  ;  then,  having  run  his  fingers  through  his 
hair,  and  replaced  his  bonnet  on  one  side,  his  toilet 
might  be  said  to  be  complete,  and  he  turned,  with  an  air  of 
confidence,  to  look  at  the  lady  beside  him. 

She  was  much  younger  than  himself,  and  was  very 
beautiful.      Her  hair  and  eyes  were  as  black  as  they 


80  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

could  be  ;  and  her  face,  full  of  life  and  animation,  was  of 
a  mellow  brown,  which,  while  it  looked  rich  and  inviting, 
had,  besides,  an  air  of  durability.  It  was  somewhat  diffi- 
cult to  understand  the  relation  subsisting  between  the  offi- 
cer and  the  lady.  He  had  come  to  the  diligence  with  her, 
made  her  accept  of  his  cloak  to  keep  off  the  cold  air  of  the 
morning,  and  was  assiduous  in  his  attentions  to  her  com- 
fort. Their  conversation  soon  showed,  however,  that  their 
acquaintance  was  but  of  recent  date ;  that  the  lady  was 
going  to  Figueras  to  join  her  husband,  a  sub-lieutenant  in 
the  garrison ;  that  the  officer  had  been  on  leave  from  his 
regiment  in  Barcelona,  whither  he  was  now  returning ; 
and  that  they  had  travelled  together  accidentally  from  Nar- 
bonne.  The  difference  between  the  French  and  most 
other  nations,  and  the  secret  of  their  enjoying  themselves 
in  almost  any  situation,  is,  simply,  that  they  endeavour  to 
content  themselves  with  the  present,  and  draw  from  it 
whatever  amusement  it  may  be  capable  of  affording.  "  Util- 
iser  ses  momens,"  is  a  maxim  which  they  not  only  utter 
frequently,  but  follow  always.  They  make  the  most  of  O 
such  society  as  chance  may  send. them,  are  polite  to  per- 
sons whom  they  never  expect  to  see  again,  and  thus  often 
begin,  where  duller  spirits  end,  by  gaining  the  good-will 
of  all  who  come  near  them.  In  this  way,  our  officer  had 
turned  his  time  to  good  account,  and  was  already  on  ex- 
cellent terms  with  his  fair  companion.  Nor  was  he  inat- 
tentive to  us,  but  exceedingly  courteous  and  polite  ;  so  that, 
instead  of  frowning  defiance  upon  each  other,  and  putting 
ourselves  at  ease  without  regarding  the  comfort  of  the  rest, 
we  all  endeavoured  to  be  agreeable,  and  even  to  prefer 
each  the  convenience  of  his  fellow-travellers  to  his  own. 

There  were  no  passengers  in  the  cabriolet,  and  the 
conductor,  in  spite  of  the  ordinance,  had  descended  from 
his  stately  station  on  the  imperial,  to  the  humbler,  though 
warmer  birth  in  the  front  of  the  diligence,  where  he  sat, 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  21 

wrapped  up  in  a  great  variety  of  fur  jackets,  with  a  red 
comforter  round  his  neck,  and  a  seal-skin  cap  on  his  head, 
which  he  would  occasionally  project  from  the  window  to 
hail  a  passing  acquaintance,  or  give  some  order  to  the  pos- 
tillion. The  rotunda,  however,  was  full,  as  I  could  see  by 
opening  a  small  window  which  communicated  between  it 
and  the  interior.  Some  of  the  passengers  were  still  sleep- 
ing, with  their  cotton  nightcaps  drawn  over  their  faces ; 
while  others  were  smoking  cigars,  and  carrying  on  a  dis- 
cordant conversation  in  French,  Provengal,  or  Catalan. 
In  one  of  the  sleepers  I  recognised  a  pastry-cook,  whom  I 
had  met  at  the  mayor's  office  at  Perpignan.  The  old 
gentleman,  a  chevalier  of  St.  Louis,  refused  at  first  to  let 
him  leave  the  kingdom,  in  consequence  of  some  defect  in 
his  passport ;  but  finally  yielded  to  the  poor  fellow's  solici- 
tations, and  made  him  happy  by  telling  him  that  he  might  go 
and  make  petits  pates  for  the  Barcelonians.  Beside  this 
gastronomical  missionary,  there  was  another  who  might 
belong  to  the  same  sect,  as  he  was  going  to  buy  cork ;  and 
*  a  third  was  a  glove-maker  of  Grenoble,  who  had  been  set- 
tled some  years  in  Barcelona,  and  was  now  returning  from 
a  visit  to  his  native  town.  This  was  a  young  man  of 
twenty-five  or  thereabouts,  with  a  short  bull-neck,  and  a 
stubborn  countenance,  not  at  all  improved  by  a  low  fur  cap 
without  a  brim,  by  which  it  was  surmounted.  He  had 
married  the  wife  of  his  former  master,  who  had  taken  a 
fancy  to  him  on  or  before  the  death  of  her  husband,  step- 
ping thus,  at  once,  into  his  bed  and  business.  The  old  lady 
came  forth  a  half-day's  journey  to  meet  and  welcome  him 
at  Mataro  ;  where,  as  they  encountered,  the  cloying  fond- 
ness of  the  one,  and  the  patient  endurance  of  the  other, 
furnished  a  singular  and  amusing  picture  of  matrimonial 
felicity. 

The  country  through  which  our  road  lay,  on  leaving  Per- 
pignan, was  highly  cultivated,  producing  some  bread-stuffs, 


22  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

I 

but  chiefly  wine,  oil,  and  silk.  These  branches  of  agri- 
culture, however,  though  they  carry  with  them  associations 
of  luxuriance  and  beauty,  furnish  by  no  means  so  many 
picturesque  attractions  as  are  to  be  found  in  a  pastoral  dis-. 
trict,  with  its  simpler  combination  of  trees,  and  streams, 
and  meadows.  The  season  of  the  year,  too,  was  very  un- 
favourable for  rural  display.  A  powerful  sun  had  already 
destroyed  the  leaves  of  the  vine  and  mulberry,  so  that  the 
only  remaining  verduje  was  offered  by  the  olive,  which 
still  preserved  it's  foliage  and  its  fruit,  blackening  as  it 
ripened — if,  indeed,  that  could  be  called  verdure,  whose 
gray  and  lifeless  hue  was  akin  to  the  soil  which  nourished 
it.  The  olive,  in  truth,  owes  every  thing  to  association ;  it 
has  the  sadness  of  the  willow,  with  little  of  its  grace. 

As  seen  from  Perpignan,  the  Pyrenees  had  stood  in  rug- 
ged perspective  before  us,  rising  gradually  from  the  Medi- 
terranean, and  bending  westward,  where  Mont  Perdu  rear- 
ed his  snowy  head,  until  lost  in  the  heavens.  Their  ap- 
parent elevation  did  not,  however,  increase  as  we  advan- 
ced ;  for  our  road,  instead  of  attacking  the  loftier  ranges,  * 
sought  an  inferior  pass,  not  very  distant  from  the  sea, 
where  the  Pyrenees  may  scarce  claim  the  character  of 
mountains.  There  are  three  principal  roads  communica- 
ting between  France  and  Spain ;  one  from  St.  Jean  de  Luz 
into  Guipuscoa ;  another  from  St.  Jean  Pied  de  Port  into 
Navarre ;  and  a  third,  by  which  we  were  crossing,  from. 
Rousillon  to  Catalonia,  by  the  pass  of  Junquera.  There 
are,  however,  a  variety  of  passes  through  the  Pyrenees, 
which  are  not  only  practicable  for  horses,  but  even  for 
carriages  and  artillery ;  yet  does  this  famous  range  offer 
an  admirable  boundary  to  the  two  great  nations  which  it 
divides,  defined  as  it  is,  on  both  sides,  by  the  course  of 
water,  which  marks  the  French  territory  when  its  direction 
is  northward,  the  Spanish  when  it  seeks  an  outlet  to  the 
eouth. 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  23 

When  the  ascent  commenced,  the  postillion  left  his  sad- 
dle, jumped  out  of  his  boots,  which  he  hitched  together  and 
threw  over  the  back  of  the  bidet,  that  he  might  not  miss  his 
rider,  and  sauntered  along  at  the  side  of  the  team,  in  the 
light  shoes  which  he  wore  within  his  boots,  smacking  his 
whip,  and  thundering  out  an  oath  or  a  hard  name  to  stimu- 
late his  cattle.  The  conductor,  too,  got  down,  and  we  all 
took  to  our  legs,  except  our  female  companion  and  the  cap- 
tain, to  whom  a  march  offered  no  novelty.  In  ascending, 
the  crests  of  the  mountain  became  craggy,  but  the  gorges 
were  still  cultivated.  There  was  little,  however,  to  merit 
the  name  of  fine  scenery ;  for  our  windings  along  the  bot- 
toms of  the  ravines  cut  us  off  from  any  extended  vista,  while 
around  us  there  were  neither  woodlands  nor  mountain 
streams,  with  their  attendant  fertility. 

At  the  last  French  post,  our  passports  were  examined ; 
and  when  we  reached  Junquera,  the  first  village  in  Spain, 
diligent  search  was  made  for  the  necessary  countersign  of 
some  Spanish  consul,  or  other  authorized  functionary. 
Here  our  trunks  were  likewise  inspected  with  much  eager- 
ness, to  discover  if  they  might  contain  any  contraband  arti- 
cles or  prohibited  books,  under  which  title  are  included  all 
except  such  as  preach  political  and  religious  obedience,  but 
especially  the  works  of  Marmontel,  Voltaire,  and  Rousseau, 
together  with  the  modern  metaphysicians  and  economists. 
The  orders  to  search  were  the  more  particular  at  this  mo- 
ment, in  consequence  of  a  large  package  of  books  having 
lately  been  detected  in  attempting  to  pass  the  barrier,  bear- 
ing on  their  backs  the  pious  title  of  "  Vidas  de  los  Santos  ;" 
but  which  were,  in  fact,  nothing  less  than  Spanish  transla- 
tions of  the  Social  Contract,  and  pocket  editions  of  Llor-  , 
ente's  History  of  the  Inquisition.  As  I  chanced  to  have 
with  me  the  Henriade  and  a  few  plays,  productions  of  the 
arch-skeptic,  I  was  glad  to  avoid  the  trouble  of  search  and 
the  risk  of  detection,  by  slipping  a  piece  of  silver  into  the 


24  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

hands  of  the  officer,  who  had  given  me  to  understand  that 
it  would  not  be  unacceptable. 

Junquera  is  a  miserable  village,  owing  its  existence,  not 
to  any  advantages  of  soil,  but  to  its  situation  near  the  top 
of  the  pass,  where  a  stopping-place  is  essential  to  the  ac- 
commodation of  travellers.  Like  most  places  similarly  sit- 
uated, it  has  but  a  squalid  appearance  ;  so  that  the  traveller 
who  enters  Spain  by  this  route,  will  always  receive  an  un- 
favourable impression  of  the  country  which  he  is  about  to 
visit.  As  usually  happens  in  passing  the  frontier  of  two 
countries,  he  may  likewise  be  surprised  at  rinding  so  little 
difference  in  the  manners  and  appearance  of  the  inhabi- 
tants. Remembering  that  those  who  live  north  of  the  fron- 
tier are  Frenchmen,  those  south  of  it  Spaniards,  he  may 
wonder  that  there  should  exist  so  much  conformity  between 
people  of  two  nations,  which,  in  all  their  essential  charac- 
teristics, are  as  different  as  they  can  well  be.  But  here, 
as  elsewhere,  there  is  a  sort  of  neutral  ground,  where  the 
dress,  manners,  and  language  are  made  up  of  those  peculiar 
to  the  neighbouring  countries.  Thus,  at  Perpignan,  the 
Provencal  begins  to  blend  itself  with  the  Catalan,  the  latter 
entering  more  and  more  into  the  compound  as  you  approach 
the  Pyrenees,  until  there  is  little  of  the  former  left  but  such 
words  and  expressions  as  are  common  to  the  two  languages. 
They  may  be  called  languages,  because,  besides  being  gen- 
erally spoken,  they  are  both  written,  and  have  their  respective 
grammars,  their  literature,  and  their  poetry.  Even  now,  as 
in  the  days  of  the  troubadour,  there  are  perhaps  more  ballads 
hawked  about  in  the  cities  of  Provence  than  in  any  other 
country,  and  there  is  a  softness  and  harmony  in  their  versifi- 
cation which  French  poetry  does  not  always  possess.  The 
Provengal  is  a  degenerate  offspring  of  the  Latin,  between  the 
French  and  Italian,  the  French  words  being  terminated  by 
aspirated  vowels,  and  softened  into  an  Italian  pronunciation  ; 
but  the  Catalan,  though  chiefly  derived  from  the  old  language 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  25 

of  the  troubadour,  is  a  rougher  and  much  harsher  tongue :  it 
has  a  hawking,  spluttering  sound,  which  may  have  come 
with  the  barbarians  from  the  north  of  Europe. 

In  the  public  officers,  police,  military,  in  fact,  in  every 
tiling  which  relates  to  the  general  service,  the  traveller  will, 
however,  notice  a  most  decided  change  in  passing  from 
France  into  Spain.  On  the  French  side  he  finds  snug 
buildings  to  shelter  the  custom-officers,  who  are  men  that 
would  repel  a  bribe  with  indignation ;  cleanliness  and  uni- 
formity in  the  dress  of  the  employes  ;  and  gendarmes  well 
accoutred  and  well  mounted,  patrolling  the  country  to  guard 
it  from  robbers,  and  enabling  the  citizen  to  pursue  his  avo- 
cations in  security.  On  the  Spanish  side  how  different ! 
Miserable  looking  aduaneros  crawl  forth,  with  paper  cigars 
in  their  mouths,  in  old  cocked  hats  of  oilcloth,  and  rolled 
in  tattered  cloaks,  from  beneath  mud  hovels,  which  seem 
to  be  only  waiting  for  their  escape  that  they  may  tumble 
down.  They  make  a  show  of  examining  you,  ask  for 
something  for  cigars,  and  if  you  give  them  a  pistareen, 
they  say  that  all  is  well,  and  you  go  by  unmolested.  Here 
there  is  no  law  but  that  of  the  strongest,  and  every  man  is 
seen  carrying  a  gun  to  protect  his  person  and  property. 

On  leaving  Junquera,  the  road  followed  a  rivulet,  and, 
after  descending  a  while,  the  barren  region  of  the  Pyrenees 
softened  into  scenes  of  partial  cultivation.  The  valleys  and 
sheltered  situations  were  covered  with  wheat,  vines,  and 
olives,  and  the  hill-tops  were  fringed  with  cork-trees.  This 
useful  production  is  known  hi  Spain  by  the  name  of  alcor- 
noque.  It  is  a  species  of  the  encina,  which,  though  of  very 
different  appearance  from  our  oak,  furnishes  a  wood  of  the 
same  grain,  and  bears  acorns,  which  are  not  so  bitter  as 
ours,  and  which,  as  an  article  of  food,  the  poorer  classes  do 
not  always  abandon  to  the  hogs.  Thus  we  are  told  that 
Sancho  was  a  great  lover  of  bellotas.  The  cork-tree  grows 
to  the  height  of  our  apple-tree,  and  spreads  its  branches 

VOL.  I.— B  3 


26  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

much  in  the  same  manner  ;  but  the  trunk  is  of  much  greater 
dimensions,  and  the  foliage  of  a  more  gloomy  hue.  Its 
body  and  branches  are  covered  with  a  thick  ragged  bark, 
which  would  seem  to  indicate  disease.  The  trunk  alone, 
however,  furnishes  a  bark  of  sufficient  thickness  to  be  of 
use  in  the  arts.  It  is  first  stripped  away  in  the  month  of 
July,  when  the  tree  is  fifteen  years  old ;  but  is  then  of  no 
use,  except  to  burn,  and  is  only  removed  for  the  sake  of  pro- 
ducing a  stouter  growth.  In  the  course  of  six  or  eight 
years,  the  inner  bark  has  grown  into  a  cork  of  marketable 
quality,  and  continues  to  yield,  at  similar  intervals,  for  more 
than  a  century. 

Towards  noon  we  drove  into  the  town  of  Figueras,  the 
first  place  of  importance  within  the  Spanish  frontier,  which 
is  commanded  by  a  citadel,  in  which  the  science  of  fortifi- 
cation has  been  exhausted.  There  is  an  old  proverb, 
which,  in  characterizing  the  military  excellence  of  three 
great  nations,  prefers  "  the  French  to  take,  the  Spaniards  to 
fortify,  and  the  English  to  keep."  The  Spaniards  have 
proved,  at  Figueras,  that  they  are  entitled  to  the  praise 
awarded  them ;  for,  with  a  sufficient  garrison  and  supplies, 
the  place  is  esteemed  impregnable.  It  is  now  occupied  by 
the  French,  to  secure  their  communications  with  the  army 
in  Barcelona.  When  it  will  cease  to  be  thus  occupied  is 
another  question. 

As  soon  as  we  drove  up  to  the  posada,  a  party  of  wild 
Catalans  rushed  forth  from  the  stable-yard,  to  assist  in  car- 
rying away  our  team ;  and  the  conductor,  who  had  long 
since  abdicated  his  elevated  station,  and  descending  along 
the  iron  steps  placed  at  the  side  of  the  diligence,  had  taken 
his  stand  upon  the  lowest  one,  supported  by  a  rope  from 
above,  now  jumped  to  the  ground,  and  hastened  to  release 
us  from  our  captivity.  Our  captain  alighted  first,  and  hav- 
ing refreshed  himself  by  a  well-bred  stretch,  was  just  hold- 
ing out  his  hand  to  assist  his  female  friend,  when  he  was 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  27 

suddenly  saved  the  trouble  by  a  stout,  fine-looking  fellow,  a 
sub-lieutenant  of  chasseurs,  who  stepped  in  before  him. 
This  was  a  rough  Proven§al,  with  a  black  beard,  who  had 
fought  his  way  to  his  present  station,  without  fear  or  favour. 
He  was  evidently  the  husband  of  the  lady ;  for  she,  decli- 
ning the  captain's  courtesy,  jumped  into  his  arms  and  em- 
braced him.  The  husband  seemed  pleased  enough  to  find 
himself  once  more  so  near  "  sa  petite,"  and  when  he  had 
called  some  soldiers,  who  were  standing  by,  to  carry  his 
wife's  bandboxes,  he  took  her  under  his  arm,  and  con- 
ducted her  in  a  hurry  to  his  quarters,  his  spurs  jingling  at 
every  step,  and  his  sabre  clattering  after  him  over  the  pave- 
ment. The  captain  twisted  his  mustaches,  and  glared 
fiercely  after  the  receding  couple  ;  but,  as  the  man  was 
only  exercising  an  honest  privilege,  he  said  not  a  word, 
but  bade  the  conductor  hand  him  down  his  sword,  and 
when  he  had  thrust  it  through  his  belt,  we  all  went  into 
the  posada. 

The  next  place  of  any  consequence  through  which  we 
passed  was  Gerona,  a  fortified  town  situated  on  a  moun- 
tain. Its  foundation  is  ascribed  to  the  Gerons,  who  make 
so  distinguished  a  figure  in  the  fabulous  history  of  Spain, 
and  whose  destruction  by  the  Lybian  Hercules  constitutes 
one  of  the  twelve  labours  of  the  god.  Gerona  is  very  cel- 
ebrated in  Spanish  history  for  the  many  sieges  it  has  sus- 
tained, and  for  its  successful  resistance  on  twenty-two  oc- 
casions, which  gained  it  the  name  of  "  La  Doncella — The 
Maiden."  It  lost  its  character,  however,  in  the  War  of  Suc- 
cession, when  it  was  entered  by  the  Marshal  de  Noailles, 
and  since  then  its  fame  is  gone  entirely.  It  was  near  nine 
at  night  when  we  reached  the  gate,  where  we  were  kept 
waiting  half  an  hour,  until  the  key  could  be  procured  from 
the  commandant. 

The  next  morning  at  four  we  were  again  in  motion, 
mounting  and  descending  hills  in  rapid  succession,  until  we 

B2 


28  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

*          * 

came  to  a  stream  of  some  width,  over  which  there  was  no 
bridge,  as  we  had  already  found  to  be  the  case  with  sev- 
eral others  since  crossing  the  frontier.  While  we  were 
yet  descending  the  bank,  the  postillion  put  his  team  to  its 
speed,  so  that  we  proceeded  a  good  distance  with  this  ac- 
quired velocity.  When  in  the  middle,  however,  we  were 
near  stopping ;  for  the  river,  which  was  much  swollen,  en- 
tered at  the  bottom  of  the  diligence,  washing  through  the 
wheels,  and  striking  against  the  flanks  of  our  horses,  until  it 
rendered  them  powerless,  and  had  wellnigh  driven  them  from 
their  legs.  They  were  for  a  moment  at  a  stand ;  but  the 
whip  and  voice  of  the  postillion  encouraged  them  to  greater 
exertion,  and,  after  much  struggling,  they  succeeded  in 
dragging  the  coach  over  the  stones  at  the  bottom  of  the 
torrent,  and  in  bringing  it  safely  to  land. 

We  were  not  alone  in  this  little  embarrassment,  for  there 
was  a  party  of  about  a  hundred  Frenchmen  crossing  the 
stream  at  the  same  time.  They  were  going  to  join  a  regi- 
ment at  Barcelona,  and,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  "  vieilles 
moustaches"  among  the  non-commissioned  officers,  who 
did  not  need  their  badges  of  service  to  proclaim  them  vet- 
erans, they  were  all  conscripts,  as  any  one  who  had  seen 
Vernet's  inimitable  sketches  would  readily  have  conjec- 
tured. It  happened  that  there  was  a  small  foot-bridge,  only 
one  plank  in  width,  which  stood  on  upright  posts  driven  into 
the  bottom  of  the  stream.  The  water  was  now  nearly  even 
with  the  top,  and  in  some  places  flowed  over.  This,  how- 
ever, afforded  a  more  agreeable  way  of  crossing  than  wading 
the  river  with  the  water  to  the  middle.  The  commander 
of  the  party  had  already  passed,  and  stood,  buttoned  in  his 
capote  and  with  folded  arms,  upon  an  eminence  beyond  the 
stream,  watching  the  motions  of  his  followers.  Those  of 
the  soldiers  who  had  already  crossed  stood  upon  the  bank, 
laughing  and  hallooing  at  the  unsteady  steps  of  the  con- 
scripts as  they  came  faltering  over,  with  caps  and  coats  fit- 


A.   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  29 

ting  them  like  sacks,  and  their  muskets  held  out  before  them 
to  assist  in  maintaining  a  balance.     Though  many  tottered, 
only  two  or  three  fell,  and  these  came  to  land  well  drench- 
ed, to  the  infinite  amusement  of  their  comrades.     Last  came 
a  young  sub-lieutenant,  evidently  on  his  first   campaign 
tripping  along  the  plank  with  the  airy  step  of  a  muscadin. 
Unfortunately,  just   as  he  had   cleared  two  thirds  of  the 
bridge,  and  was  quickening  his  pace  with  an  air  of  great 
self-complacency,  a  flaw  of  wind,  rushing  down  the  ravine, 
caught  the  skirts  of  his  oilcloth  coat,  and,  throwing  him  ou< 
of  the  perpendicular,  he  fell  full  length,  like  a  thresher-fish, 
upon  the  water.     The  soldiers  respected  the  feelings  of 
their  officer,  and  repressed  their  mirth ;  they  rushed  into 
the  stream  with  exclamations  of  anxiety  for  "  mon  lieuten- 
ant," and  soon  drew  him  to  land,  dripping  with  the  water, 
from  which  his  patent  cloak  had  not  availed  to  protect  him. 
The  little  village  of  Tordera  lay  just  beyond  the  bank 
of  the  stream,  and  its  whole  population  had  come  out  to  the 
corner  of  the  last  house  to  witness  our  simultaneous  arri- 
val.    It  happened  to  be  Sunday,  and,  as  I  have  sometimes 
fancied  is  apt  to  be  the  case,  it  brought  with  it  a  bright 
sunshine  and  a  cloudless  sky.     The  inhabitants,  in  consid- 
eration of  the  day  and  the  weather,  were  decked  in  their 
gayest  apparel,  furnishing  me  with  a  first  and  most  favour- 
able occasion  of  seeing  something  of  the  Catalans  and  their 
costume.     The  men  were  of  large  stature,  perfectly  well 
made,  and  very  muscular ;  but  there  seemed  something  sin- 
ister in  their  appearance,  partly  produced  by  the  length  and 
shagginess  of  their  hair,  and  the  exaggerated  cast  of  their 
countenances,  partly  by  the  graceless  character  of  their 
costume.     It  consisted  of  a  short  jacket  and  waistcoat  of 
green  or  black  velvet,  scarce  descending  half  way  down 
the  ribs,  studded  thickly  with  silver  buttons  at  the  breasts, 
lapels,  and  sleeves  ;  the  trousers  of  the  same  material,  or 
of  nankeen,  being  long,  full,  and  reaching  from  the  ground 
3* 


30  A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

to  the  armpits:  Instead  of  shoes,  they  wore  a  hempen  or 
straw  sandal,  which  had  a  small  place  to  admit  and  protect 
the  toes,  and  a  brace  behind  with  cords,  by  means  of  which 
it  was  bound  tightly  to  the  instep.  Their  dark-tanned  and 
sinewy  feet  seemed  strangers  to  the  embarrassment  of  a 
stocking,  while  their  loins  were  girt  with  a  sash  of  red  silk 
or  woollen.  This  article  of  dress,  unknown  among  us,  is 
universally  worn  by  the  working  classes  in  Spain,  who  say 
that  it  keeps  the  back  warm,  sustains  the  loins,  and  pre- 
vents lumbago  ;  in  short,  that  it  does  them  a  great  deal  of 
good,  and  that  they  would  be  undone  without  it.  Most  of 
the  young  men  had  embroidered  ruffles,  and  collars  tied  by 
narrow  sashes  of  red  or  yellow  silk ;  some  displayed  with- 
in their  waistcoat  a  pair  of  flashy  suspenders  of  green  silk, 
embroidered  with  red,  and  adjusted  by  means  of  studs  and 
buc,kles  of  silver.  The  most  remarkable  article,  however, 
of  this  singular  dress,  and  by  no  means  the  most  graceful, 
was  a  long  cap  of  red  woollen,  which  fell  over  behind  the 
head,  and  hung  a  long  way  down  the  back,  giving  the 
wearer  the  look  of  a  cut-throat.  Whether  from  the  associa- 
tion of  ideas  with  the  "  bonnet  rouge,"  or  some  other  prej- 
udice, or  from  its  own  intrinsic  ugliness,  I  was  not  able, 
during  my  short  stay  in  Catalonia,  to  overcome  my  repug- 
nance to  this  detestable  head-gear. 

As  for  the  women,  some  of  them  were  dressed  in  a  gala 
suit  of  white,  with  silk  slippers  covered  with  spangles  ;  but 
more  wore  a  plain  black  frock,  trimmed  with  velvet  of  the 
same  colour.  They  were  generally  bareheaded,  just  as 
they  had  come  from  their  dwellings  ;  a  few,  returning  per- 
haps from  mass,  had  fans  in  their  hands,  and  on  their  heads 
the  mantilla.  The  Spanish  mantilla  is  often  made  entirely  of 
lace,  but  more  commonly  of  black  silk,  edged  with  lace  or 
velvet.  It  is  fastened  above  the  comb,  and  pinned  to  the  hair, 
thence  descending  to  cover  the  neck  and  shoulders,  and 
ending  in  two  embroidered  points  which  depend  in  front. 


A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  31 

These  are  not  confined,  but  left  to  float  about  loosely ;  so 
that,  with  the  ever-moving  fan,  they  give  full  employment 
to  the  hands  of  the  lady,  whose  unwearied  endeavours  to 
conceal  her  neck  furnish  a  perpetual  proof  of  her  modesty. 
Though,  in  former  times,  the  female  foot  was  doomed  in 
Spain  to  scrupulous  concealment,  to  display  it  is  now  no 
longer  a  proof  of  indecency.  The  frock  has  been  much 
shortened  among  these  fair  Catalans,  each  of  whom  exhib- 
ited a  well-turned  ankle  and  neat  little  foot,  shrouded  in  a 
thread  stocking,  with  a  red,  a  green,  or  a  black  slipper. 
They  were,  besides,  of  graceful  height  and  figure,  with  the 
glow  of  health  deep  upon  their  cheeks,  and  eyes  that  spoke 
a  burning  soul  within.  There  was  much  of  the  grace,  and 
ease,  and  fascination  of  the  Provencale,  with  a  glow  and 
luxuriance  enkindled  by  a  hotter  sun. 

We  were  detained  a  short  time  in  Tordera  to  change 
horses,  so  that,  before  we  departed,  the  French  party  filed 
into  the  little  square  by  beat  of  drum ;  the  captain  march- 
ing, sword  in  hand,  at  the  head,  while  his  lieutenant  slunk 
past  us,  with  the  water  oozing  from  his  boots  at  each  tread, 
and  sought  out  the  kitchen  of  the  posada.  When  the  line 
was  formed,  the  sergeant  proceeded  to  call  the  roll ;  sen- 
tinels were  placed  to  parade  on  each  side  of  the  square, 
and  then  the  arms  being  stacked,  and  the  sacks  and  accou- 
trements suspended  upon  them,  the  soldiers  became  in- 
stantly as  merry  as  crickets,  stretched  their  backs,  now 
relieved  of  their  burdens,  or  capered  about  the  square, 
wrestling  with  each  other,  or  fencing  with  their  hands  as 
if  they  had  foils  in  them.  Others  wandered  away  to  a 
neighbouring  wine-shop,  to  stay  their  stomachs  while  their 
rude  meal  was  preparing,  levying  a  subscription  of  coppers 
for  the  purpose  as  they  went,  while  a  solitary  swain  pre- 
ferred rather  to  roam  aside  to  a  neighbouring  alley,  and 
make  love  to  a  damsel  of  Tordera. 

Leaving  this  little  village  and  its  pleasant  scenes,  we  as- 


32  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

cended  a  hill  and  came  suddenly  in  sight  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean, and  of  a  far-stretching  extent  of  coast,  whitened,  at 
short  intervals,  by  busy  little  villages,  which  received  the 
tribute  of  both  sea  and  land ;  for,  while  a  well-tilled  soil 
supplied  the  wants  of  the  industrious  cultivator,  countless 
fishing-boats  were  seen  upon  the  water,  urging  their  way 
to  the  beach  by  sail  and  oar,  to  land  their  spoil,  and  share 
in  the  rest  and  jubilee  of  the  Sabbath.  When  we  came  to 
the  shore,  some  of  these  boats  were  already  hauled  up. 
They  had  but  one  short  mast,  leaning  forward,  with  a  very 
long  yard,  over  which  their  nets  were  now  suspended  to 
dry,  while  the  fish  taken  in  their  toils  fluttered  in  heaps 
on  the  sand,  or  were  carried  away  in  baskets.  These 
boats  were  sharp  at  both  ends,  with  a  high  prow,  ending 
in  a  round  ball,  painted  to  represent  the  human  face,  and 
covered  with  a  wig  of  sheepskin.  Besides  this  odd  orna- 
ment, some  had  a  half-moon  or  a  human  eye  on  either 
bow.  Nor  were  there  wanting  larger  vessels,  clean-built 
smugglers  and  others,  anchored  near  the  shore  ;  while,  far- 
ther in  the  offing,  were  ships  and  brigs,  stretching  to  and 
fro  against  a  contrary  wind,  anxious  to  escape  from  the 
stormy  region  of  the  Gulf  of  Lyons.  One  ship  had  come 
quite  near.  Her  well-fashioned  and  varnished  hull  and 
trim-rigged  masts,  with  the  snowy  whiteness  of  her  can- 
vass, rendered  it  likely  that  she  was  an  American.  Nor 
was  there  any  thing  hazardous  in  the  conjecture,  since, 
wherever  there  is  water  to  float  a  ship,  it  has  been  divided 
by  an  American  keel.  I  felt  sure  of  the  matter  from  the 
first,  being  somewhat  of  a  connoisseur  in  matters  of  ships 
and  rigging  ;  for,  when  yet  a  child,  I  had  loved  to  loiter 
about  the  wharves  of  my  native  city,  watching  the  arrival 
of  ships  from  countries  which  I  knew  as  yet  only  through 
my  geography,  or  witnessing  the  casting-off  of  departing 
vessels,  the  last  halloo  and  later  greeting  of  shawls  and 
handkerchiefs,  as  friends  were  separated  from  each  other. 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  33 

It  was  not,  however,  without  a  feeling  of  additional  satis- 
faction, that  I  presently  saw  the  proud  ship  turn  towards 
the  wind,  present  the  opposite  side  to  its  efforts,  and 
change  the  direction  of  her  sails,  offering  her  stern  to  our 
view,  and,  as  if  pleased  with  the  opportunity,  hoisting  aloft 
and  displaying  in  the  bright  sunshine  the  stars  and  stripes 
of  that  banner  which  has  never  been  branded  with  dishon- 
our, nor  sullied  by  strong-handed  injustice.  I  was  alone 
in  a  foreign  land,  strange  sights  were  before  me,  and  stran- 
ger sounds  were  echoing  in  my  ears  ;  yet  the  home  feeling, 
thus  called  up,  asserted  itself  within  me,  and,  as  the  gallant 
ship  faded  from  my  view,  I  offered  an  inward  prayer  that 
the  winds  and  waves  might  be  propitious  to  her. 

Our  road  now  lay  along  the  coast  through  a  great 
number  of  villages,  which  formed  themselves  into  a  double 
row  of  houses  on  either  side.  I  was  struck  with  the  neat 
appearance  of  these  dwellings,  unlike  anything  I  had  seen 
in  France.  Some  were  two  stories,  more  but  one  in  height, 
plastered  and  whitewashed,  with  red  tile  roofs.  The  door 
opened  into  a  long  entry,  neatly  garnished  and  matted. 
Not  unfrequently,  a  little  altar  stood  at  the  extremity,  illu- 
minated by  a  single  lamp.  A  rude  image  of  Our  Lady  of 
the  Pillar  was  usually  the  prominent  object,  and  around  was 
an  abundance  of  pewter  ornaments  and  pictures.  It  was 
the  family  shrine  ;  its  refuge  in  the  hour  of  distress  ;  when 
the  storm  rages,  and  the  boat  of  her  husband  is  not  yet  upon 
the  beach,  the  only  succour  of  an  anxious  wife — if  not  the 
source  of  real  protection,  at  least  a  foundation  for  confi- 
dence and  hope. 

Beside  the  door  revealing  this  shrine  of  family  devotion 
was  a  high  window,  grated  with  iron  bars,  and  ornamented 
with  flowerpots.  This  was  also  a  shrine,  though  devoted 
to  a  different  order  of  excellence.  A  lovely  girl  might  often 
be  seen  sitting  with  her  chair  in  the  window ;  one  foot 
concealed  under  it,  the  other  projecting  between  the  gra- 
B3 


34  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

tings  of  the  balcony,  displaying  perfectly  its  graceful  crarre 
and  well-defined  outline.  Her  left  arm  over  the  back  of 
her  chair,  the  right  holds  a  fan,  with  which  she  presses  her 
under  lip  into  more  inviting  relief.  Her  full  dark  eye 
glances  rapidly  at  all  who  pass,  frowns  upon  some,  and  fa- 
vours others,  whom  she  at  the  same  time  salutes  with  a  gra- 
cious bending  forward  of  the  head,  and  one  of  those  winning 
and  prolonged  shakes  of  the  fan  or  fingers,  which,  though  so 
common  in  Spain,  are  yet  quite  enough  to  turn  the  head  of 
any  man.  One  of  our  passengers,  a  young  student  whom 
we  had  taken  in  at  Gerona,  had  never  before  been  from 
home.  He  set  out  sad  and  tearful,  as  boys  are  wont  to  do, 
and  during  the  whole  morning  dealt  only  in  monosyllables. 
As  his  home  receded,  however,  he  grew  less  sorrowful,  and 
the  unaccustomed  scenes  of  the  coast  and  the  shipping  be- 
came so  many  sources  of  amusement.  But  the  bright  eyes 
of  these  brown  beauties  were  far  more  effectual ;  indeed, 
they  put  the  devil  into  the  boy.  Whenever  we  passed  one 
of  these  favoured  balconies,  he  would  jump  to  the  window, 
shake  his  hands  with  a  smile,  after  the  fashion  of  the  coun- 
try, call  the  lady  "  the  heart  of  his  soul,"  and  utter  many 
tender  speeches  in  Catalan.  Once,  when  a  rarer  combina- 
tion of  lips  and  eyes  had  raised  his  rapture  and  admiration 
too  high  for  words,  he  took  refuge  in  signs,  loading  the 
ends  of  his  fingers  with  kisses,  and  wafting  them  tenderly, 
after  the  manner  of  the  Turks.  Nor  did  the  damsel  thus 
saluted  grow  angry  at  his  impertinence.  When  she  saw 
how  fast  the  diligence  went,  and  that  it  was  only  a  boy, 
she  took  courage,  and  returned  the  salutation  by  mimick- 
ing it. 

In  this  merry  way  we  rattled  through  many  villages 
which  lay  in  the  road  to  Barcelona.  Nor  was  the  country 
itself  without  attraction.  The  protecting  Pyrenees  formed 
a  barrier  against  the  bleak  mistral,  while  the  sunny  expo- 
sure of  the  coast,  and  the  moist  winds  of  the  Mediterra- 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  85 

ncan,  tended  to  keep  alive  vegetation.  There  were  corn- 
fields, vineyards,  and  olive-orchards,  all  divided  from  each 
other  by  hedges  of  aloe.  This  hardy  plant,  while  it  forms 
•enclosures  which  take  care  of  themselves  and  are  impene- 
trable, furnishes  fibres  which  are  woven  into  a  coarse  cloth, 
used  in  the  country,  and  sent  to  America  for  cotton-bagging, 
and  even  into  lace  and  other  fine  fabrics.  The  orange,  too, 
might  occasionally  be  seen  at  the  sunny  side  of  a  house, 
loaded  with  its  rich  fruit,  and  its  leaves  still  verdant  and 
exhaling  fragrance ;  nor  had  the  singing-birds  yet  ceased 
their  carol. 

Such  was  the  succession  of  objects  that  varied  our  drive 
to  Barcelona,  which  we  reached  before  sunset.  The  pop- 
ulation, dressed  in  various  and  fantastic  costumes,  and  in- 
termingled with  French  soldiery,  were  returning  from  their 
Sunday's  promenade,  and  hurrying  to  reach  the  gates  be- 
fore they  should  close  for  the  night.  We  entered  with 
them,  wound  through  the  streets  of  the  Catalonian  metrop- 
olis, and  were  presently  set  down  at  the  coach-office  beside 
the  Rambla.  We  were  not  long  in  dispersing,  and  the 
young  Frenchman  and  I  sought  lodgings  at  the  neighbour- 
ing Fonda  of  the  Four  Nations. 

Before  separating,  however,  we  had  exchanged  addresses 
with  our  companion  the  captain,  and  received  an  invitation 
to  visit  him  at  his  quarters.  We  took  an  early  occasion  of 
redeeming  our  promise,  and  at  length  found  him  out  in  a 
little  room,  overlooking  one  of  the  narrowest  streets  of  Bar- 
celona. As  we  entered,  he  was  sitting  thoughtfully  on  his 
bed,  with  a  folded  paper  in  his  hand,  one  foot  on  the 
ground,  the  other  swinging.  A  table,  upon  which  were  a 
few  books,  and  a  solitary  chair,  formed  the  only  furniture 
of  the  apartment ;  while  a  schaiko,  which  hung  from  the 
wall  by  its  mailed  throat-lash,  a  sword,  a  pair  of  foils  and 
masks,  an  ample  cloak  of  blue,  and  a  small  portmanteau, 
containing  linen  and  uniform,  constituted  the  whole  travel- 


36  A  YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

ling  equipage  and  moveable  estate  of  this  marching  officer. 
We  accommodated  ourselves,  without  admitting  apologies, 
on  the  bed  and  the  chair,  and,  our  host  set  about  the  task  of 
entertaining  us,  which  none  can  do  better  than  a  French- 
man. He  had  just  got  a  letter  from  a  widow  lady,  whose 
acquaintance  he  had  cultivated  when  last  in  Barcelona,  and 
was  musing  upon  the  answer.  Indeed,  his  amatory  corre- 
spondence seemed  very  extensive ;  for  he  took  one  billet 
which  he  had  prepared  from  the  cuff  of  his  capote,  and  a 
second  from  the  fold  of  his  bonnet,  and  read  them  to  us. 
They  were  full  of  extravagant  stuff,  rather  remarkable  for 
warmth  than  delicacy ;  instead  of  a  signature  at  the  bottom, 
had  a  heart  transfixed  with  an  arrow,  and  were  folded  in 
the  shape  of  a  cocked  hat.  As  for  the  widow,  he  did  not 
know  where  to  find  words  sweet  enough  for  her,  and  pro- 
tested that  he  had  half  a  mind  to  send  her  the  remain- 
ing one  of  a  pair  of  mustaches,  which  he  had  taken  from 
his  lip  after  the  campaign  of  Russia,  and  which  he  pres- 
ently produced,  of  enormous  length,  from  a  volume  of  tac- 
tics. 

When  we  were  about  to  depart,  our  captain  said  that  he 
was  going  to  the  caserne  of  his  regiment  to  assist  in  an  as- 
sault of  arms  which  was  to  be  given  by  the  officers,  and 
asked  us  to  go  with  him.  The  scene  of  the  assault  was  a 
basement  room,  the  pavement  of  pounded  mortar  being 
covered  with  plank,  to  make  it  more  pleasant  to  the  feet. 
We  found  a  couple  already  fencing,  and  our  companion 
soon  stripped  to  prepare  for  the  encounter.  It  was  singular 
to  see  the  simplicity  of  his  dress.  When  he  removed  his 
boots  to  put  on  the  sandal,  his  feet  were  without  stockings, 
and  under  his  close-buttoned  capote  there  was  no  waistcoat, 
nothing  ta  cover  his  shaggy  breast,  but  a  coarse  linen  shirt 
without  a  Collar;  for  the  French  officers  wear  nothing 
about  the  neck  besides  a  stock  of  black  velvet  edged  with 
white.  Having  taken  off  the  swordbelt  which  hung  from 


A  YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  37 

Ms  shoulder,  and  bound  his  suspenders  round  his  loins,  he 
rolled  his  sleeves  up,  chose  a  mask  and  foil,  and  was  ready 
to  step  into  the  arena.  It  appeared  that  our  captain  was 
master  of  his  weapon,  from  the  difficulty  in  finding  him  an 
antagonist.  This,  however,  was  at  length  removed,  by  the 
stepping  forth  of  a  close-built  little  "  sabreur."  It  Avas  a 
fine  display  of  manly  grace,  to  see  the  opening  salutations 
of  courtesy,  and  the  fierce  contest  that  ensued,  as  they  al- 
ternately attacked  and  defended,  winding  themselves  within 
the  guard  of  each  other  with  the  stealth  and  quickness 
of  the  serpent,  and  glaring  from  within  their  masks  with 
eyes  of  fire.  The  buttons  of  their  foils  were  not  covered 
with  leather,  as  is  usual  among  more  moderate  fencers,  lest 
the  motion  of  the  points  should  be  embarrassed.  Hence 
the  rough  edges,  as  they  grazed  the  arm  or  struck  full  upon 
the  breast,  brought  blood  in  several  places.  This  same 
weapon,  the  foil,  is  generally  used  by  the  French  military 
in  duels,  with  the  single  preparation  of  cutting  off  the  but- 
ton. When  the  assault  was  concluded,  the  antagonists  re- 
moved their  masks  and  shook  hands,  as  is  the  custom,  in 
order  to  remove  any  irritation  that  might  have  occurred 
during  the  contest.  Then  commenced  a  brisk  and  earnest 
conversation  upon  the  performance,  furnishing  matter  for 
many  compliments  and  never-ending  discussion.  During  a 
year's  residence  in  France,  I  had  never  before  met  with  any 
one  who  had  taken  part  in  the  campaign  of  Russia.  As  I 
now  looked,  however,  upon  the  muscular  arms  of  the  cap- 
tain, and  his  iron  conformation,  I  was  not  surprised  that  he 
had  been  of  the  few  who  had  gone  through  the  horrors  of 
that  disastrous  expedition. 

Our  fonda  was  situated  upon  the  Rambla,  a  broad  high- 
way through  the  city,  the  chief  thoroughfare  and  promenade 
of  Barcelona.  Being  of  modern  construction,  we  found 
large  and  commodious  apartments.  But  to  one  accustomed 
to  the  convenience  and  luxury  of  a  French  bedchamber,  my 
4 


3S  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

present  room  was  but  dreary  and  desolate.  Besides  the  tile 
floor  and  whitewashed  walls  and  ceiling,  there  were  a  few 
chairs,  a  table,  and  no  mirror  ;  on  one  side  a  comfortless 
bed,  hidden  by  curtains  in  an  alcove  ;  on  the  other,  a  large 
window,  with  folding  sashes  and  grated  balcony. 

It  overlooked  an  open  field,  which  had  no  trees,  but  was 
covered  with  ruins  and  rubbish.  The  place  had  formerly 
been  the  site  of  the  convent  and  spacious  garden  of  a  Capu- 
chin fraternity.  The  property  had  been  sold  during  the 
late  period  of  the  Constitution,  and  the  buyers  were  pro- 
posing to  build  houses,  and  to  render  it  productive,  when 
the  royalist  insurrection,  which  the  despoiled  clergy  had 
stirred  up,  aided  by  French  armies,  brought  about  the  coun- 
ter-revolution. Those  who  had  paid  for  the  land  were  dis- 
possessed with  little  ceremony,  and  the  materials  which 
they  had  been  collecting  to  erect  shops  and  dwellings  were 
now  fastened  upon  by  the  returning  fugitives,  to  renew  the 
demolished  combination  of  church,  and  cell,  and  cloister. 
The  good  fathers  might  be  seen  all  day  from  my  window, 
moving  about  as  busy  as  bees,  with  their  long  beards  and 
dingy  habits  of  gray,  girded  with  ropes,  superintending  the 
labour  of  twenty  or  thirty  workmen. 

The  balconies  in  the  front  of  our  fonda  offered  a  gayer 
view  ;  for  it  overlooked  the  wide  walk  of  the  Rambla, 
which  was  constantly  frequented  by  every  variety  of  peo- 
ple, and  in  the  afternoon  was  thronged  to  overflowing. 
The  scene  then  became  animated  indeed,  including  many 
well-dressed  men  and  women,  evidently  the  fashion  of  the 
place  ;  country  people  and  artisans  ;  French  officers  and 
soldiers,  moving  along  with  pretty  girls  hanging  on  their 
arms,  and  each  apparently  as  much  at  home  as  though  he 
were  in  the  centre  of  his  own  department.  There  were 
also  students  rolled  in  long,  flimsy  black  cloaks  ;  their 
breeches,  stockings,  and  cocked  hats,  also  black,  and  with- 
out even  so  much  as  a  shirt-collar  to  relieve  the  gloom  of 


A  YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  39 

their  attire.     But  the  most  numerous  class  of  pedestrians 
was  the  clergy.     Their  appearance  was  grotesque  enough ; 
the  seculars,  canons,  curates,  and  vicars,  wore  frocks  of 
black,   concealing  breeches   and  stockings   of  the    same 
colour.     Over  all  they  had  an  ample  cloak  of  black  cloth 
or  silk,  without  a  cape,  which  either  hung  loosely  around 
them,  or  was  thrown  into  a  graceful  fold   by  placing  the 
right  skirt  over  the  opposite  shoulder.     The  hat,  however, 
was  the  most  remarkable  object  of  their  dress.     It  con- 
sisted of  an  immense  flat,  three  or  four  feet  in  diameter, 
turned  up  at  the  sides  until  the  two  edges  met  above  the 
crown,  which  was  worn  with  the  long  part  pointing  before 
and  behind  ;  for,  had  it  been  carried  sidewise,  a  few  would 
have  served  to  block  the  Rambla,  and  render  passing  im- 
practicable.    The  best  time  to  convince  one's  self  of  the 
convenience  of  this  headgear  is  in  a  gale  of  wind.     Many 
a  severe  fit  of  laughter  have  I  had  in  Spain,  Avhen  it  has 
been  blowing  hard,  to  see  a  priest  coming  unexpectedly 
upon  a  windy  corner  and  struck  by  a  flaw.     One  hand  is 
stretched  to  the  front  of  the  long  hat,  the  other  to  the  back 
of  it,  as  though  devotion  had  prompted  a  new  way  of  sign- 
ing the  cross  ;  and  then  the  full  robes,  fluttering  and  strug- 
gling, to  the  sad  entanglement  of  the  legs,  combined  to  form 
a  figure  perfectly  ludicrous.     Besides  the  secular  clergy, 
there  was  a  goodly  store  of  monks  in  black,  white,  blue,  or 
gray,  with  their  fat  and  unseemly  heads  shaved  bare  at  the 
crown,  and  about  the  neck  and  temples.     A  few  were  worn 
down  and  emaciated,  as  if  from  fasting,  vigils,  and  macera- 
tion, with  an  air  of  cold-blooded  and  fanatic  abstraction ; 
but  the  greater  part  were  burly  and  well-conditioned,  with 
sensuality  engraven  on  every  feature.     As  they  waddled 
contentedly  and  self-complacently  along  the  Rambla,  they 
would  peer  into  the  mantilla  of  every  pretty  girl  that  passed 
them,  exchanging  a  shake  of  the  fingers  or  a  significant 
glance  with  such  as  were  of  their  acquaintance.     There 


40  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

is  no  part  of  Spain  where  the  clergy  are  more  numerous 
than  in  Catalonia,  for  they  form  more  than  two  per  cent, 
of  the  entire  population.  Two  men  in  a  hundred  who 
neither  sow,  nor  reap,  nor  labour  ;  and  who  nevertheless 
eat,  and  drink,  and  luxuriate  !  The  fact  is  its  own  best 
commentary. 


CHAPTER    II. 

CATALONIA. 

Barcelona — Environs — The  Noria — History  of  Barcelona — First  Steam- 
boat— Present  Condition  of  Barcelona — Departure  for  Valencia — Team 
of  Mules— Morning  Scene— Murder  of  a  Bishop— Road  to  Tarragona — 
Management  of  Mules — Traits  of  Mulish  Character — Tarragona. 

THE  principality  of  Catalonia  forms  part  of  the  kingdom 
of  Aragon,  and  extends  along  the  Mediterranean,  from  the 
Pyrenees  to  the  Ebro.  It  is  by  nature  broken,  mountain- 
ous, and  steril ;  but  the  stubborn  industry  of  the  inhabi- 
tants has  forced  it  into  fertility,  and  at  no  very  distant  pe- 
riod it  had  more  manufacturers  than  any  other  part  of 
Spain,  carried  on  extensive  fisheries,  and  traded  to  the 
remotest  corners  of  the  world,  thus  offering  the  noble  spec- 
tacle of  a  country  sustaining  a  numerous  and  flourishing 
population,  though  unaided  by  the  bounties  of  nature. 

Barcelona  is  the  capital  of  the  principality,  and  is  situ- 
ated upon  a  plain  beside  the  sea.  Without  the  walls,  to- 
wards the  southwest,  is  an  insulated  hill  called  Monjui, 
which  is  crowned  with  a  fine  fortress,  and  is  impregnable 
by  any  regular  attack.  The  Lobregat  runs  behind  it,  while 
the  horizon  on  the  north  and  west  is  closed  by  a  bold  range 
of  mountains,  which  arrest  the  bleak  Avinds  of  winter. 
Among  these,  Monserrat,  celebrated  not  less  for  its  vener- 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  41 

ated  shrine,  under  the  invocation  of  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
than  for  the  horrors  of  its  scenery  and  situation,  lifts  its 
crest,  fringed  with  a  forest  of  rocky  pyramids.  The  port 
is  partly  formed  by  a  natural  indentation  of  the  coast,  but 
chiefly  by  an  artificial  mole  of  noble  construction,  which 
stretches  far  into  the  sea.  Vessels  drawing  sixteen  feet 
may  cross  the  bar  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbour,  and  be  pro- 
tected from  most  winds  within  the  mole.  In  the  season 
of  Levanters,  however,  there  comes  an  occasional  hurricane, 
forcing  in  a  terrible  sea,  which  drives  the  ships  from  their 
anchors,  dashes  them  against  each  other,  and  covers  the 
beach  and  bay  with  an  awful  scene  of  confusion  and  dis- 
aster. > 

Barcelona  yields  only  to  Madrid  and  Valencia  in  extent 
and  population.  The  greater  part  of  the  city  is  very  ill 
built,  with  streets  so  narrow  that  many  of  them  are  impas- 
sable for  carriages  ;  this  is  especially  the  case  in  the  centre, 
where  the  old  Roman  town  is  supposed  to  have  stood,  from 
the  ruins  found  there — arches  and  columns  of  temples,  in- 
corporated with  the  squalid  constructions  of  modern  times. 
Here  the  public  square  or  Plaza  is  found,  with  arcades  and 
balconies,  the  scene  of  many  an  auto-da-fe  and  many  a 
bull-feast.  It  has,  however,  witnessed  one  redeeming  spec- 
tacle ;  for  it  was  here  that  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  attended 
by  a  wondering  and  proud  array  of  cavaliers  and  courtiers, 
received  from  Columbus  the  tribute  of  a  new-found  world. 

The  churches  of  Barcelona  are  not  remarkable  for  beau- 
ty, but  the  custom-house  is  a  noble  edifice,  and  so  is  the 
exchange.  In  the  latter,  public  schools  are  established  for 
teaching  the  sciences  connected  with  navigation,  and  the 
arts  of  architecture,  painting,  and  statuary.  These  noble 
institutions  are  maintained  at  the  expense  of  the  city,  and 
all,  whether  natives  or  strangers,  children  or  adults,  may 
attend  the  classes  gratuitously,  and  receive  instruction  from 
able  masters.  The  Catalans  have  much  taste  for  music, 
4* 


42  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

and  have  long  supported  an  Italian  opera  in  Barcelona.  I 
found  the  performance  better  than  in  Madrid.  The  com- 
pany confines  itself  to  the  music  of  Rossini,  which,  doubt- 
less, contributes  to  its  success.  The  comedy  is  very  infe- 
rior, lacking  as  it  does  the  support  of  the  lower  classes,  who 
are  but  little  acquainted  with  the  Castilian  tongue.  The 
only  performance  which  I  attended  gave  me  but  a  poor 
opinion  of  the  Spanish  drama ;  it  was  not  thus  with  Span- 
ish dancing,  which  I  there  witnessed  with  delight  for  the 
first  time.  Notwithstanding  the  great  size  of  Barcelona,  it 
has  no  public  journal  of  its  own ;  nothing,  indeed,  which 
approaches  the  character  of  a  newspaper,  except  a  little 
diary,  as  big  as  your  two  hands,  which  contains  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  weather,  and  a  marine  list,  together  with  such 
a  collection  of  commercial  advertisements  as  indicates  too 
clearly  the  fallen  condition  of  trade. 

The  environs  of  Barcelona,  as  seen  from  Monjui,  are 
exceedingly  picturesque.  Besides  the  noble  metropolis, 
which  spreads  itself  at  your  feet,  with  its  combination  of 
palaces,  churches,  promenades,  and  lines  of  eircumvalla- 
tion,  you  have  the  bay  before  you,  filled  with  its  shipping, 
drawn  up  within  the  long  white  mole,  terminated  by  a 
noble  faro  ;  and  beyond,  the  open  sea,  spotted  by  many  a 
white  sail,  and  stretching  far  east,  wave  following  wave  in 
diminished  perspective,  until  lost  in  the  horizon.  In  the 
interior  is  seen  the  rugged  barrier  of  mountains,  while  the 
verdant  prospect  below  bespeaks  its  protecting  influence. 
The  fields  about  Barcelona  are  cultivated  with  the  greatest 
care,  and  are  extremely  productive  in  silk,  wine,  oil,  figs, 
oranges,  almonds,  apricots,  and  pomegranates  ;  flax,  wheat, 
barley,  oats,  rye,  and  Indian  corn,  with  every  species  of 
esculents.  When  contemplated  from  above,  this  scene  of 
varied  production,  neatly  divided  into  fields,  and  enclosed 
by  hedges  of  aloe,  delights  the  eye,  and  fills  the  mind  with 
the  most  pleasing  ideas.  The  leading  feature  in  the  culti- 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  43 

ration  here,  and  to  which  much  of  this  fertility  is  owing,  is 
the  system  of  irrigation.  With  a  view  to  facilitate  the  op- 
eration, the  fields  are  levelled  into  terraces,  and  a  small 
stream  which  runs  by  the  city  furnishes  the  lands  through 
which  it  passes  with  water ;  but  it  is  more  generally  pro- 
cured on  each  little  farm  by  a  machine  called  the  noria, 
introduced  by  the  Saracens,  which  is  of  general  use 
throughout  Spain,  and  is  of  essential  value  in  so  dry  a 
climate. 

The  noria  consists  of  a  vertical  wheel  placed  over  a 
well,  and  having  a  band  of  ropes  passing  round  it,  to  which 
earthen  jars  are  affixed.  These  jars,  set  in  motion  by  the 
turning  of  the  wheel,  descend  empty  on  one  side,  pass 
through  the  water  in  the  well  below,  and,  having  small 
holes  in  the  bottom  for  the  air  to  escape,  fill  easily,  before 
they  ascend  on  the  opposite  side.  A  little  water  leaks 
from  the  holes  during  the  ascent,  and  falls  from  jar  to  jar. 
When  arrived  at  the  top,  the  water  is  emptied  into  a  trough 
leading  to  a  reservoir,  elevated  above  every  part  of  the  field 
which  it  is  intended  to  irrigate.  Connected  with  the  res- 
ervoir is  a  basin  for  washing  clothes.  As  for  the  vertical 
wheel  which  immediately  raises  the  water,  it  receives  its 
motion  from  a  horizontal  one,  turned  by  a  horse,  cow,  mule, 
or,  more  commonly,  an  ass.  There  is  something  primitive 
in  this  rude  machine,  that  carries  one  back  to  Scripture 
scenes  and  oriental  simplicity.  Often  have  I  sat  by  the 
roadside  for  an  hour  together,  watching  the  economy  of 
these  little  farms  in  the  environs  of  Barcelona.  While 
the  labourer  was  digging  among  his  lettuces,  that  oldfash- 
ioned  animal,  the  ass,  performed,  unbidden,  his  solemn 
revolutions  ;  the  wheel  turned,  and  the  ropes  of  grass 
brought  up  the  jars  and  emptied  them  of  their  burden,  while 
at  the  neighbouring  reservoir  a  dark-eyed  damsel  would  be 
upon  her  knees  beside  the  basin,  her  petticoats  tucked 
snugly  around  her,  and,  as  she  rubbed  the  linen  with  her 


44  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

hand,  or  beat  it  against  the  kerbstone,  singing  some  wild 
outlandish  air,  like  any  thing  but  the  music  of  Europe. 
Much  labour  is  doubtless  lost  by  the  rude  construction  of 
the  noria  ;  but  the  system  of  irrigation  with  which  it  is 
connected  is  an  excellent  one,  and  is  the  means  of  fertil- 
izing lands  which  must  otherwise  have  remained  uncul- 
tivated. 

Barcelona  is  of  very  great  antiquity,  having  been  founded 
more  than  two  centuries  before  Christ,  by  Hamilcar  Barcus, 
father  to  the  great  Hannibal,  from  whom  it  derives  its 
name.  It  made  no  great  figure  under  the  Roman  domina- 
tion, having  been  eclipsed  in  those  days  by  the  immense 
city  of  Tarraco.  When  the  Saracens  overran  Spain,  Bar- 
celona shared  the  common  fate,  and  yielded  to  the  domin- 
ion of  Mahomet.  Its  remoteness,  however,  from  Cordova, 
the  seat  of  the  Saracen  empire,  rendered  its  tenure  precari- 
ous, and  accordingly,  in  the  ninth  century,  it  was  recovered 
by  Louis  le  Debonnaire,  son  and  successor  of  Charlemagne. 
He  erected  it  into  a  county,  which  he  vested  in  the  family 
of  Bernard,  a  French  noble.  The  Counts  of  Barcelona 
continued  to  yield  allegiance  to  the  French  crown,  until  it 
voluntarily  relinquished  its  sovereignty  hi  the  thirteenth 
century.  The  county  became  annexed  to  Aragon  by  mar- 
riage, as  the  latter  afterward  blended  itself  with  Castile  to 
form  the  present  Spanish  monarchy,  whose  kings  still  use 
the  title  of  Counts  of  Barcelona.* 

Though  Barcelona  remained  inconsiderable  under  the 
Romans,  it  made  a  distinguished  figure  in  the  days  of  re- 
turning civilization.  From  the  Jews,  who  took  refuge  in  it 
when  driven  from  their  homes,  it  derived  that  spirit  of  fru- 
gal and  persevering  industry  which  still  characterizes  its 
inhabitants.  The  Catalans  became  enterprising  traders, 
and  the  Mediterranean,  which  lay  so  convenient  for  com- 

*  Mariana,  Historia  de  Espana.  Most  of  the  historical  matter  intro- 
duced in  the  course  of  this  work  is  upon  the  authority  of  the  same  author. 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  45 

mercial  pursuits,  was  soon  covered  with  their  ships.  Bar- 
celona became  the  rival  of  Genoa,  and  the  depot  whence 
Christian  Spain  received  the  precious  commodities  of  the 
East ;  nor  was  the  valour  of  the  Catalans  inferior  to  their 
industry  and  enterprise.  They  fitted  out  piratical  expedi- 
tions, with  which  they  worried  the  commerce  of  the  Sara- 
cens ;  and  even  when  they  encountered  armed  fleets,  vic- 
tory was  almost  ever  sure  to  declare  for  them.  One  fact, 
recorded  by  Mariana,  may  be  sufficient  to  show  the  charac- 
ter and  reputation  of  the  early  Catalans.  In  the  beginning 
of  the  fourteenth  century,  when  the  Turks,  led  on  by  Oth- 
man,  the  fierce  founder  of  their  empire,  began  to  extend 
their  conquests  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Constantinople,  the 
Emperor  Andronicus,  conscious  of  the  effeminacy  of  his 
warriors,  sent  an  embassy  to  Barcelona  to  ask  assistance 
of  the  Catalans.  Reguier,  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
Catalan  captains  of  that  day,  accepted  the  invitation.  Hav- 
ing obtained  the  consent  of  his  king,  he  enlisted  five  thou- 
sand adventurers  equally  fearless  with  himself,  and  set  sail 
for  Constantinople.  They  gained  many  battles  in  Phrygia, 
and  drove  the  Turks  from  the  vicinity  of  the  Black  Sea, 
until  they  at  length  became  so  powerful,  and  withal  so  in- 
solent, that  the  Greek  emperor  would  willingly  have  been 
delivered  from  their  friendship.  He  made  war  with  little 
success  against  his  rapacious  auxiliaries,  until,  after  losing 
many  battles,  he  was  obliged  to  beg  the  interference  of  the 
pope  and  of  the  King  of  Aragon,  before  they  would  leave 
his  territory.  Thus  compelled  to  yield  obedience  to  their 
spiritual  and  temporal  masters,  these  Catalans  seized,  as  a 
last  resort,  upon  Athens  and  Negropont,  where  they  long 
continued  to  maintain  themselves.  To  this  romantic  expe- 
dition the  kings  of  Aragon  owed  their  title  of  Dukes  of 
Athens  and  Neopatria,  still  used  by  the  Spanish  sovereigns 
down  to  the  present  day. 

At  length,  however,  when  the  discovery  of  America  and 


46  A.   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

the  progress  of  intelligence  had  revolutionized  the  public 
mind,  and  when  the  spirit  of  war  and  destruction  had  given 
place  to  that  of  civilization,  the  Catalans  were  among  the 
foremost  to  yield  obedience  to  the  change.  Barcelona  be- 
came a  vast  magazine,  where  goods  of  wool  and  silk,  fire- 
arms and  cutlery,  with  almost  every  fabric,  were  prepared 
for  the  distant  colonies  of  Spain.  The  Catalan  sailors  re- 
paired with  these  commodities  to  every  part  of  America,  and 
adventurers  from  among  the  surplus  population  would  be 
absent  a  few  years,  and  then  return  with  fortunes  to  in- 
crease the  resources  and  quicken  the  industry  of  their  na- 
tive province. 

It  appears  from  a  late  valuable  publication,  Navarrete's 
collection  of  Spanish  voyages  and  discoveries,  that  the  first 
known  experiment  of  propelling  a  vessel  by  the  agency  of 
steam  was  made  at  Barcelona,  more  than  eighty-five  years 
before  the  idea  of  procuring  motion  by  means  of  it  was  first 
started  by  Brancas  in  Italy,  more  than  a  century  before  this 
power  was  first  applied  to  any  useful  purpose  by  the  Mar- 
quis of  Worcester  in  England,  and  near  three  centuries  be- 
fore Fulton,  adapting  and  combining  the  inventions  of  a  host 
of  contemporary  mechanists,  successfully  solved  the  same 
wonderful  problem  in  our  own  country.  Singular,  how- 
ever, as  the  fact  may  be,  it  is  fully  established  by  various 
documents  lately  found  in  the  archives  of  Simancas,  and  is 
so  circumstantially  stated  as  to  be  incontrovertible.  It  ap- 
pears that  in  the  year  1543  a  certain  sea  officer,  called 
Blasco  de  Garay,  offered  to  exhibit  before  the  Emperor 
Charles  V.  a  machine,  by  means  of  which  a  vessel  should 
be  made  to  move  without  the  assistance  of  either  sails  or 
oars.  Though  the  proposal  appeared  ridiculous,  the  man 
was  so  much  in  earnest,  that  the  emperor  appointed  a  com- 
mission to  witness  and  report  upon  the  experiment.  It  con- 
sisted of  Don  Enrique  de  Toledo,  Don  Pedro  Cardona,  the 
Treasurer  Ravago,  the  Vice-chancellor  Gralla,  and  many 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  47 

experienced  seamen.  The  experiment  was  made  the  sev- 
enteenth June,  1543,  on  board  a  vessel  called  the  Trinidad, 
of  two  hundred  barrels  burden,  which  had  lately  arrived 
with  wheat  from  Colibre.  The  vessel  was  seen  at  a  given 
moment  to  move  forward  and  turn  about  at  pleasure,  with- 
out sail  or  oar,  or  any  visible  mechanism,  except  a  huge 
boiler  of  hot  water  and  a  complicated  combination  of  wheels 
and  paddles.  The  assembled  multitude  were  filled  with 
astonishment  and  admiration.  The  harbour  of  Barcelona 
resounded  with  plaudits,  and  the  commissioners,  who  shared 
in  the  general  enthusiasm,  all  made  favourable  reports  to 
the  emperor,  except  only  the  Treasurer  Ravago.  This  man, 
from  some  unknown  cause,  was  prejudiced  against  the  in- 
ventor and  his  machine.  He  took  great  pains  to  under- 
value it,  stating,  among  other  things,  that  it  could  be  of  little 
use,  since  it  only  propelled  the  vessel  two  leagues  in  three 
hours ;  that  it  was  very  expensive  and  complicated,  and 
that  there  was  great  danger  of  the  boiler's  bursting  fre- 
quently. The  experiment  over,  Garay  collected  his  ma- 
chinery, and,  having  deposited  the  wooden  part  in  the  royal 
arsenal,  carried  the  rest  to  his  own  house. 

Notwithstanding  the  invidious  representations  of  Ravago, 
Garay  was  applauded  for  his  invention,  and  taken  into  fa- 
vour by  the  emperor,  who  promoted  him  one  grade,  gave 
him  two  hundred  thousand  maravedises,  and  ordered  the 
jealous  treasurer  to  pay  all  the  expenses  of  the  experiment 
But  Charles  was  then  taken  up  with  some  military  expedi- 
tion, and  the  occasion  of  conferring  an  inestimable  benefit 
on  mankind  was  neglected  for  the  business  of  bloodshed 
and  devastation,  while  the  honour  which  Barcelona  might 
have  received  from  perfecting  this  noble  discovery,  was  re- 
served for  a  city  which  had  not  yet  started  in  the  career  of 
existence.  The  fact  that  a  vessel  was  propelled  by  steam 
as  early  as  the  sixteenth  century  thus  rendered  certain,  the 
question  next  occurs,  whether  it  in  any  way  detracts  from 


48  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

the  honour  due  to  our  countryman,  Fulton,  not  for  having 
made  the  first  successful  application  of  steam  to  purposes 
of  navigation,  for  he  was  even  anticipated  by  Fitch  in  our 
own  country,  but  for  having  brought  it  into  use  over  the 
whole  civilized  world  ?  By  no  means.  This  experiment 
at  Barcelona,  owing  to  the  absence  of  journals  and  news- 
papers, those  modern  vehicles  of  intelligence,  was  unknown 
to  the  world  generally,  at  the  time  of  making  it,  as  it  ever 
was  to  Fulton.  And  besides,  who  can  tell  but  that  in  like 
manner  many  inventions,  which  constitute  at  once  the  pride 
and  profit  of  the  present  age,  may  have  existed  centuries 
ago  in  countries  of  forgotten  civilization  ? 

The  present  condition  of  Barcelona  compared  with  the 
past  is  a  very  sad  one.  Though  industry  and  frugality  still 
characterize  the  Catalan,  the  capital  and  outlets  which  gave 
activity  to  these  qualities  no  longer  exist.  The  manufac- 
tories of  cutlery  and  fire-arms  are  ruined  and  forgotten,  and 
the  wines  and  brandies  of  Catalonia,  the  cotton  and  woollen 
goods,  which  used  formerly  to  be  carried  to  every  corner 
of  the  Americas,  are>  now  either  shipped  away  by  stealth  or 
consumed  only  in  Spain.  The  ships,  whose  tall  masts  once 
loomed  like  a  fores!  within  the  mole  of  Barcelona,  are  now 
replaced  by  a  paltry  assemblage  of  fishing-boats  and  feluc- 
cas. Even  these  are  not  allowed  a  free  navigation  along 
the  coasts  of  the  Peninsula ;  nor  does  Spain  even  enjoy  the 
pitiful  privilege  of  an  interchange  of  her  own  productions. 
Pirates  and  outcasts,  adventurers  of  every  nation  except 
Columbia,  assuming  the  easy  flag  of  that  country  and  the 
name  of  patriot,  rendered  loathsome  by  its  wearers,  post 
themselves  along  the  headlands  of  the  Peninsula,  and  pilfer 
all  who  pass.  Will  this  state  of  things  last  always  ?  Those 
who  believe  that  the  prosperity  of  one  country  does  not  in- 
volve the  ruin  of  another,  may  hope  that  it  will  not.  Spain 
must  sooner  or  later  sacrifice  her  prejudices  to  her  interest ; 
and  when  the  Americas  shall  be  independent  in  name  as 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  49 

in  fact,  the  influence  of  a  community  of  language,  man- 
ners, and  wants,  will  not  fail  to  assert  itself.  The  spirit  of 
enterprise,  smothered,  but  not  extinct,  among  the  Catalans, 
will  revive,  and  Barcelona  may  again  resound  to  the  rattle 
and  clang  of  the  loom  and  the  hammer. 

Having  passed  a  week  in  Barcelona,  I  set  out  early  one 
morning  for  Tarragona,  on  my  way  to  Valencia  and  Mad- 
rid. At  three  o'clock,  the  waiter  who  had  served  me  in  the 
fonda  came  to  call  me  and  carry  my  trunk  to  the  diligence- 
office.  There  it  was  carefully  weighed,  and  all  that  it  ex- 
ceeded an  aroba,  or  twenty-five  pounds,  was  paid  for,  wver 
and  above  the  charge  for  passage,  which,  from  Barcelona  to 
Valencia,  a  distance  of  fifty-seven  Spanish  leagues,  of  seven- 
teen and  a  quarter  to  the  degree,  or  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
eight  miles,  amounted  to  about  fifteen  dollars.*  There  was, 
besides,  a  charge  of  one  real,  or  five  cents,  for  each  pos- 
tillion during  the  journey,  and  a  gift  of  courtesy  of  nearly 
as  much  more,  which  usage  had  taught  the  conductor  to 
expect  at  its  termination.  The  advantages  of  the  exclusive 
system,  for  diligences  in  Spain  belong  to  the  general  sys- 

*  Though  there  is  some  variety  in  the  currency  of  the  different  prov- 
inces, yet  the  following  division  of  money  is  generally  used  throughout 
Spain.  The  highest  gold  coin,  the  ounce,  or  doblon  of  eight,  is  equal  to 
sixteen  dollars ;  the  doblon  of  four  is  equal  to  eight  dollars  ;  the  doblon  of 
gold,  to  four  dollars  ;  the  escudo,  or  doblon  simple,  to  two  ;  and  the  durito 
to  one  dollar.  The  silver  coins  are  the  duro,  or  peso  fuerte,  equal  to  one 
dollar ;  the  escudo,  to  half  a  dollar ;  the  peseta,  Jo  one  fifth  of  a  dollar ;  and 
the  real  of  vellon  to  the  twentieth  of  a  dollar.  This  last  is  divided  into 
eight  copper  cuartos,  and  nominally  into  thirty-four  maravedises.  The 
real,  however  small,  is  yet  the  unity  of  Spanish  currency.  Formerly  there 
were  but  eight  reales  to  the  dollar  or  ounce  of  silver,  which  was  thence 
called  the  real  of  eight ;  but  the  progressive  depreciation  of  the  copper  or 
vellon  money,  arbitrarily  forced  into  circulation,  has  reduced  it  to  its  pres- 
ent value.  In  America,  where  the  copper  money  was  not  issued,  the  real 
still  preserved  its  value.  It  is  the  same  coin  which  passes  among  us  for 
twelve  and  a  half  cents  ;  and  it  is  to  the  original  real  of  eight,  that  we  are 
indebted  for  our  unity  of  a  dollar. 

The  Spanish  weights  are  the  pound,  the  aroba,  of  twenty-five  pound*, 
and  the  quintal. 

VOL.  I.— C  5 


50  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

tern  of  monopoly,  were  here  brought  home  to  me  in  th« 
way  which  travellers  are  most  apt  to  appreciate.  In  France, 
a  seat  in  the  cabriolet  for  a  corresponding  distance  would 
not  have  cost  more  than  the  half  of  what  I  was  now  pay- 
ing. I  was  further  struck  with  some  items  of  the  stipula- 
tions printed  on  the  back  of  my  receipt ;  one  interdicted 
the  carrying  of  more  money  than  was  strictly  necessary  for 
the  expenses  of  the  way,  under  penalty  of  being  liable  for 
any  detriment  which  might  result  to  the  diligence  ;  another 
held  out  to  the  traveller  the  consoling  assurance,  that  the 
company  would  not  be  liable  for  any  loss  which  might  be 
sustained  by  "  robo  a  mano  armada." 

By  the  time  I  had  snugly  adjusted  myself  in  my  corner 
of  the  cabriolet,  an  absentee,  for  whom  we  had  been  wait- 
ing, arrived  and  took  his  seat  beside  me.  This  done,  the 
door  was  closed  with  a  slam,  the  iron  steps  were  turned  up 
with  a  grating  sound,  the  guttural  "  Arre !"  rattled  out  by 
the  mayoral  was  repeated  by  the  zagal,  and  our  ponderous 
diligence  hove  itself  into  motion,  as  it  were,  with  a  univer- 
sal groan. 

In  riding  from  Perpignan  to  Barcelona,  the  horses  had 
been  exchanged  for  mules  very  shortly  after  crossing  the 
boundary.  In  Spain,  mules  are  generally  preferred  to 
horses  as  beasts  of  burden  and  draught,  and  are  seen  before 
the  most  elegant  carriages.  Horses  are  employed  for  the 
saddle,  to  make  a  display  in  cities ;  but  to  travel  any  dis- 
tance, even  in  this  way,  the  mule  is  preferred  as  an  easier- 
gaited  and  hardier  animal,  capable  of  enduring  the  ex- 
tremes of  hunger  and  fatigue.  Hence  the  mule  commands 
a  much  higher  price.  The  female  being  of  showy  fig- 
ure, with  limbs  beautifully  formed  and  sinewy,  is  used 
for  draught,  while  the  macho,  or  male,  the  most  stubborn 
and  stupid  animal  in  the  world,  is  laden  upon  the  back, 
and  made  to  work  in  a  more  unworthy  manner.  The  team 
which  now  drew  us  through  the  silent  streets  of  Barcelona 
consisted  of  seven  mules ;  six  of  which  drew  in  pairs, 


A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  51 

abreast  of  each  other,  while  the  seventh  went  alone  at  the 
head,  and  was  honoured  with  the  name  of  Capitana.  Their 
harness  was  very  different  from  any  thing  I  had  yet  seen ; 
for,  while  the  two  wheel-mules  were  attached  to  the  carriage 
in  the  ordinary  way,  all  the  rest  had  long  rope  traces, 
which,  instead  of  leading  to  the  pole,  were  attached  to  the 
carriage  itself,  and  kept  from  dragging  on  the  ground  in 
descending  hills  by  a  leathern  strap,  fastened  to  the  end  of 
the  pole,  through  which  they  all  passed.  The  leading 
mule  only  was  guided  by  lines  ;  the  rest  had  their  halters 
tied  to  the  traces  of  Capitana,  and  were  thus  obliged  to  fol- 
low all  her  motions,  while  the  two  hindmost  had  stout  ropes 
fastened  to  their  headstalls  for  checking  them  on  the  de- 
scent. Nor  was  mere  ornament  disregarded  in  their  equip- 
ment. Their  bodies  were  smoothly  shaven,  to  enable  them 
better  to  endure  the  heat ;  but  this  was  rendered  subser- 
vient to  decoration,  by  leaving  the  hair  in  partial  stripes ; 
the  tail  preserved  enough  of  its  garniture  to  furnish  a  neat 
flybrush,  and  the  haunches  were  covered  with  a  curious 
fretwork  in  imitation  of  embroidery.  They  were,  besides, 
plentifully  adorned  with  plumes  and  tassels  of  gayly-col- 
oured  woollen,  and  had  many  bells  about  the  head,  to  cheer 
them  on  the  journey.  As  for  our  guides,  they  consisted 
of  a  zagal  and  mayoral,  or  postillion  and  conductor.  The 
zagal,  with  whom  we  set  out  from  Barcelona,  was  a  fine- 
looking,  athletic  young  man,  dressed  in  the  Catalan  cos- 
tume, with  a  red  cap  of  unusual  length  reaching  far  down 
his  back.  The  mayoral,  who  was  much  older,  was  in 
similar  attire  :  but  rather  more  rolled  up  in  jackets  and 
blankets,  as  became  the  cool  air  of  the  morning,  and  his 
own  sedentary  station  on  the  front  of  the  diligence. 

Thus  drawn  and  thus  conducted,  we  wound  through  the 
streets  of  Barcelona,  and  when  we  came  to  narrow  and  in- 
tricate passes,  the  zagal  would  place  himself  beside  Cap- 
itana, and  lead  her  by  the  headstall.     The  day  had  not 
C3 


52  A  YEAR   I 

yet  dawned,  and  the  gate  towards  Monjui  was  not  open 
when  we  reached  it ;  we  were  therefore  compelled  to  wait 
a  few  moments,  embarrassed  among  a  great  number  of 
carts,  which  were  carrying  off  the  filth  of  the  city  to  ma- 
nure their  fields,  and  which  furnished  company  with  which 
we  might  easily  have  dispensed.  A  gun,  however,  from 
Monjui,  coming  at  first  with  a  heavy  peal,  and  then  dying 
away  among  the  mountains,  gave  the  signal  for  which  we 
were  waiting.  Before  the  reverberations  had  ceased,  the 
gates  grated  upon  their  hinges  as  they  were  thrown  open 
by  the  punctual  Frenchmen,  and  the  chains  of  the  draw- 
bridge creaked  and  jarred  with  the  weight  of  the  descend- 
ing mass.  Our  filthy  neighbours  opened  right  and  left  to 
make  room  for  us,  and  the  zagal,  taking  Capitana  by  the 
head,  led  her  over  the  bridge,  through  the  zigzag  ap- 
proaches of  the  exterior  works ;  and  having  fairly  gained 
the  high  road  without  the  city,  he  gave  her  a  good  lash 
with  his  whip,  and,  standing  still,  bestowed  the  same  greet- 
ing upon  each  mule  as  it  passed  in  review  before  him. 
They  all  set  off  at  a  gallop,  and  he,  grasping  with  his  left 
hand  a  rope  which  depended  from  the  top  of  the  diligence, 
and  the  tail  of  the  hind  mule  with  the  right,  vaulted  to  the 
bench  of  the  mayoral. 

On  leaving  the  gate  of  Barcelona,  we  ascended  the  side 
of  Monjui  at  a  round  pace  ;  and,  having  crossed  the  sum- 
mit of  the  ridge,  descended  to  the  valley  of  the  Lobregat' 
with  equal  rapidity.  The  diligence  was  of  less  heavy  con- 
struction than  in  France,  insomuch  that  the  hind  wheels 
were  not  now  shod,  but  allowed  to  revolve.  It  would  have 
been  bad  enough  to  descend  rapidly  so  long  a  hill  in  the 
daytime,  and  with  a  clear  road  before  us  ;  but  we  had  the 
further  disadvantages  of  almost  total  darkness,  and  of  hav- 
ing the  whole  hill  strung  with  market-carts  repairing  to  the 
city.  The  mayoral  and  zagal  were  both  looking  sharply 
into  the  obscurity  before  us,  and  when  one  or  more  objects 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  53 

suddenly  appeared  in  the  road,  the  sagacity  of  the  mules,  or, 
when  they  slackened  their  pace  and  moved  unsteadily,  as  if 
in  doubt  which  side  to  go,  a  sudden  twitch  of  the  reins  of 
Capitana,  would  send  them  all  in  a  hurry  upon  the  course 
most  likely  to  extricate  us.  This  succeeded  generally,  but 
the  carmen  could  not  always  anticipate  our  motions ;  so 
that  we  several  times  grazed  closely  by  them,  and  even 
caught  the  shaft  of  one  that  stood  across  the  road,  through 
the  perverseness  of  the  mules,  in  our  hind  wheel.  Our 
drivers  had  neither  the  inclination  nor  the  ability  to  stop  the 
diligence,  in  order  to  inquire  into  the  damage ;  but  a  loud 
crash  and  louder  curses  rising  behind  us,  gave  assurance 
that  the  contact  had  not  been  harmless. 

When  the  daylight  came,  and  the  sun  at  length  rose  into 
an  unclouded  sky,  I  looked  with  pleasure  upon  the  varied 
scene  around  me.  Our  road,  though  it  followed  the  gen- 
eral outline  of  the  coast,  and  commanded  occasional  vistas 
of  the  Mediterranean,  sometimes  struck  into  the  interior  to 
avoid  a  headland,  and  thus  gave  an  insight  into  the  charac- 
ter and  cultivation  of  the  country.  From  my  first  entrance 
into  Spain  till  my  arrival  at  Barcelona,  I  had  seen  ranges 
of  mountains  constantly  rising  in  the  interior,  and  had 
placed  them  all  to  the  account  of  the  neighbouring  Py- 
renees ;  but  the  same  state  of  things  now  continued  to  fix 
my  attention.  The  land  rose  boldly  as  it  receded  from  the 
sea,  ridges  overlooking  ridges,  and  I  found,  what,  indeed,  I 
have  everywhere  found  in  Spain,  a  broken  country  and  a 
constant  succession  of  mountains.  These,  however,  do  not 
baffle  the  efforts  of  the  cultivator.  Many  of  them  were  cov- 
ered with  forests  of  cork-trees,  orchards  of  olive,  or  fur- 
nished pasture  to  goats  and  sheep,  while  the  hill-sides,  de- 
clining towards  the^&ea,  were  spread  out  in  Vineyards  or 
grain-fields,  now  no  longer  verdant.  The  wine  here  raised 
is  much  esteemed  in  the  cotintry,  and  Villafranca,  through 
which  we  passed  at  seven  in  the  morning,  produces  a  Mai- 
s' 


54  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

voisie  or  Chian  of  some  celebrity.  The  population  was 
everywhere  busy  ploughing  the  fields,  and  in  laying  the 
foundation  of  a  future  harvest ;  the  spirit  of  industry  seemed 
strong,  and  yet  there  were  not  wanting  appearances  of  a 
pervading  poverty ;  the  implements  of  husbandry  were  ill 
contrived  and  rudely  made  ;  and  the  plough,  instead  of  ma- 
king a  regular  and  rapid  furrow,  went  forward  devious  and 
slowly,  and  seemed  to  linger  in  the  soil.  It  was  drawn 
sometimes  by  mules  or  oxen,  sometimes  by  meager  cows  ;. 
and  I  once  saw  a  poverty-stricken  peasant,  rolled  up  in  a 
tattered  blanket,  and  pushing  his  plough  through  an  ungrate- 
ful-looking field,  with  no  better  assistance  than  an  ass  and 
a  cow.  The  scene  was  a  characteristic  one :  and  as  I 
looked  upon  the  gaunt  form  and  wasted  figure  of  the  poor 
peasant,  as  he  struggled  for  the  bread  that  was  to  meet  the 
cravings  of  a  hungry  family,  I  could  not  avoid  the  conclusion 
that  he  must  be  kept  poor  by  some  unfriendly  participation 
in  the  fruits  of  his  labour ;  that  he  must  be  toiling  to  pay 
the  pageantry  of  some  degenerate  noble  in  Madrid,  or  to 
fatten  and  sensualize  the  monks  I  had  seen  rolling  along 
the  Rambla  of  Barcelona. 

Early  in  the  morning  we  came  to  a  place  which  had 
been  the  scene  of  a  cruel  tragedy  during  the  late  short  and 
violent  period  of  the  Constitution.  I  learned  from  the  gen- 
tleman who  rode  beside  me,  that  at  the  time  of  the  regency 
of  Urgel,  and  of  the  religious  and  royalist  insurrection, 
which  of  itself  would  doubtless  have  sufficed  to  overturn  the  • 
offensive  system,  the  Bishop  of  Vique  became  obnoxious  to 
the  Constitutionalists  ;  for,  at  the  same  time  that  he  claimed 
the  character  of  a  liberal,  he  was  lending  secret  assistance 
to  the  opposite  party.  His  treasonable  practices  being  dis- 
covered, he  was  seized  in  some  village  of  Catalonia,  and 
brought  towards  Barcelona.  His  crime  was  clear,  arid 
merited  the  punishment  of  a  traitor ;  but  it  was  feared  that 
the  reverence  of  the  people  for  t)p  clergy,  and  especially 
for  the  episcopal  office,  might  produce  a  commotion,  if  the 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  55 

treacherous  bishop  should  be  openly  put  to  death.  So  they' 
contrived  a  plan  to  place  a  band  of  ruffians  in  concealment 
by  the  road-side,  who  should  take  the  bishop  from  the 
hands  of  his  escort  and  slay  him.  The  place  chosen  for  the 
act  was  a  hill-side,  where  rocks  and  trees  disputed  posses- 
sion of  the  soil.  The  assassins  took  advantage  of  the  con- 
cealment, and  when  the  escort  arrived  at  their  ambush,  they 
.sallied  out  and  dispersed  it.  The  aged  bishop  was  ordered 
to  alight  from  his  carriage,  dragged  a  short  distance  from 
the  road,  and  there  cruelly  butchered.  Though  the  mur- 
dered man  was  not  remarkable  for  the  virtues  which,  even 
in  Spain,  are  usually  associated  with  the  episcopal  dignity, 
he  is  nevertheless  now  reverenced  as  a  martyr  throughout 
the  land ;  at  the  solicitation  of  the  Catalonian  clergy,  he 
has  lately  been  duly  enrolled  upon  the  list  of  the  beatified  ; 
so  that,  from  having  only  been  Bishop  of  Vique,  he  is  now 
become  its  patron  saint.  A  cross  elevated  upon  a  rock  in- 
dicates the  site  of  this  horrible  tragedy,  so  similar,  not  only 
essentially,  but  even  in  its  details,  to  the  murder  of  the 
Scottish  archbishop,  as  related  by  Robertson,  or  as  brought 
before  us  in  one  of  the  most  graphic  productions  of  the  great 
romancer.  As  we  caught  through  the  trees  a  passing  view 
of  this  sad  memento,  1  could  not  help  expressing  my  hor- 
ror at  the  outrage.  The  person  who  had  related  the  story 
attempted  to  justify  the  act  by  the  many  crimes  of  the 
clergy,  and  by  political  expediency  ;  but  I  am  unwilling  to 
believe  that  the  happiness  of  a  nation,  any  more  than  that 
of  an  individual,  can  be  promoted  by  crime.  A  government 
which  could  resort  to  such  acts  of  retribution  is  entitled  to 
but  few  regrets. 

The  individual  who  shared  the  cabriolet  with  me  was  a 
pleasing  man  of  thirty,  who  had  been  a  miliciano  during  the 
constitutional  period,  which,  with  the  present  government, 
was  a  fair  title  to  proscription.  After  the  return  of  despo- 
tism he  had  gone  into  voluntary  exile,  and  remained  a  year 


56  A   YEAR    IK    SPAIN. 

at  Marseilles,  whence  he  had  only  returned  when  the 
licensed  assassinations  and  plunder  of  the  royalists  had  in 
a  measure  subsided,  or  been  put  down  by  the  establishment 
of  the  police.  He  complained  bitterly  of  the  vexations  to 
which  he  was  still  subject,  and  mentioned  among  other 
things  that,  being  fond  of  shooting,  he  had  been  at  some 
expense  in  taking  out  a  license  to  carry  fire-arms  ;  he  had 
likewise  purchased  a  very  valuable  fowling-piece,  and  had 
scarce  used  it  half  a  dozen  times,  when  down  came  a  royal 
order  to  disarm  the  late  milicianos.  His  house  was  enter- 
ed and  searched  by  the  armed  police,  and  his  fowling-piece 
taken  off  and  deposited  somewhere,  whence  in  all  proba- 
bility it  would  never  return.  All  this  served  to  give  some 
notion  of  the  degree  of  liberty  now  enjoyed  in  Spain,  and 
to  make  the  time  pass,  if,  indeed,  there  could  be  any  thing 
wearisome  amid  scenes  which,  besides  the  charm  of  nov- 
elty, were  fruitful  enough  in  amusement  and  excitation. 

The  road  from  Barcelona  is,  or  rather  has  been,  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  in  Spain ;  being  constructed  in  a  manner 
which  combines  convenience  with  great  durability,  winding 
round  hills  where  they  are  too  steep  to  be  crossed,  and 
sometimes  cutting  directly  through  the  side  of  them,  and 
making  a  deep  gap  for  its  passage.  As  the  hills  are  pierced 
for  the  passage  of  the  road,  so  the  ravines  are  rendered  pas- 
sable by  bridges  which  span  them,  of  one,  and  sometimes 
two  rows  of  arches,  rising  above  each  other,  as  in  the  aque- 
duct at  Nismes.  This  road,  like  others  in  Spain,  is  made 
upon  the  McAdam  principle,  as  we  call  it,  a  system  which 
has  been  in  use  there  from  time  immemorial ;  though  now 
out  of  repair  and  neglected,  it  was  not  positively  bad  ;  and, 
even  though  it  had  been,  why  should  we  care,  with  a  string 
of  seven  mules  to  drag  us,  and  two  wild  men  to  drive  them  ? 
Indeed,  we  kept  trotting  up  one  side  of  a  hill  and  galloping 
down  the  other,  the  whole  way  to  Tarragona.  There  was 
a  pleasing  excitement  in  this  heels-over-head  mode  of  trav- 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  57 

elling,  after  the  slow  and  easy  pace  of  the  French  diligence, 
their  heavy-headed  and  thick-legged  horses,  and  the  big 
boots  of  their  postillions.  The  manner,  too,  in  which  these 
Catalans  managed  their  mules,  was  quite  peculiar ;  the 
zagal  kept  talking  with  one  or  the  other  of  them  the  whole 
time,  calling  them  by  name,  and  apparently  endeavouring  to 
reason  them  into  good  conduct,  and  making  them  keep  in  a 
straight  column,  so  that  each  might  draw  his  share  of  the 
burden,  and  not  rub  against  his  neighbour.  I  say  he  called 
them  by  their  names  ;  for  every  mule  in  Spain  has  its  dis- 
tinctive appellation,  and  those  that  drew  our  diligence  were 
not  exceptions.  Thus,  besides  Capitana,  we  had  Portugesa, 
Arragonesa,  Coronela,  and  a  variety  of  other  cognomens, 
which  were  constantly  changing  during  the  journey  to  Va- 
lencia. Whenever  a  mule  misbehaved,  turning  from  the 
road,  or  failing  to  draw  its  share,  the  zagal  would  call  its 
name  in  an  angry  tone,  lengthening  out  the  last  syllable, 
and  laying  great  emphasis  on  it.  Whether  the  animals 
really  knew  their  names,  or  that  each  was  sensible  when  it 
had  offended,  the  voice  of  the  postillion  would  usually  re- 
store order.  Sometimes  when  the  zagal  called  to  Coronela, 
and  Portugesa  obeyed  the  summons  by  mistake,  he  would 
cry  sharply, "  Aquella  otra ! — that  other  one  !"  and  the  con- 
science-stricken mule  would  quickly  return  to  its  duty. 
When  expostulation  failed,  blows  were  sure  to  follow :  the 
zagal  would  jump  to  the  ground,  and  run  forward,  beating 
and  belabouring  the  delinquent ;  sometimes  jumping  upon 
the  mule  immediately  behind  it,  and  continuing  the  disci- 
pline for  a  half  hour  together.  The  activity  of  these  fel- 
lows is  indeed  wonderful.  Of  the  twenty  miles  which 
usually  compose  a  stage,  they  run  at  least  ten,  and,  during  a 
part  of  the  remainder,  stand  upon  one  foot  at  the  step  of  the 
diligence.  In  general,  the  zagal  ran  up  hill,  flogging  the 
mules  the  whole  way,  and  stopping  occasionally  at  the  road- 
side to  pick  up  a  store  of  pebbles,  which  he  stowed  in  his 
C3 


58  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

sash,  or,  more  frequently,  in  his  long  red  cap.  At  the  sum- 
mit he  would  take  the  mule's  tail  in  his  hand,  and  jump  to 
his  seat  before  the  descent  commenced.  While  going 
down,  he  would  hold  his  cap  in  one  hand,  and  with  the 
other  throw  a  stone,  first  at  one  mule,  then  at  another,  to 
keep  them  all  in  their  proper  stations,  that  the  ropes  might 
not  hang  on  the  ground  and  get  entangled  round  their  legs. 
These  precautions  would  not  always  produce  the  desired 
effect ;  the  traces  would  sometimes  break  or  become  entan- 
gled, the  mules  be  brought  into  disorder,  and  a  scene  of 
confusion  follow.  This  happened  several  times  in  one 
stage,  when  a  vicious  mule  had  been  put  among  the  team  to 
be  broken  to  harness.  It  was,  indeed,  an  obstinate  and  per- 
verse animal,  and  even  more  stupid  than  perverse.  It 
would  jump  first  to  one  side,  then  to  the  other,  and  kick  the 
ribs  of  its  neighbour  without  mercy.  When,  at  length,  it 
had  succeeded  in  breaking  its  own  traces  and  entangling  its 
legs  in  those  of  its  companions,  it  would  stand  as  quiet  as  a 
iamb  until  the  damage  was  repaired,  and  then  renew  the 
same  scene  of  confusion.  Nor  did  the  more  rational  mules 
behave  themselves  much  better.  They  would  start  to  one 
side  when  the  zagal  cried  out  Arre  !  and  when  he  whistled 
for  them  to  stop,  they  would  sometimes  go  the  faster.  If 
one  had  occasion  to  halt,  the  rest  would  not  obey  the  his- 
sing signal  of  the  postillion,  but  drag  the  reluctant  animal 
forward ;  and,  presently  after,  the  mule  which  had  been 
most  unwilling  to  stop  would  be  itself  taken  with  a  similar 
inclination,  and  receive  similar  treatment  from  its  com- 
rades ;  whereas  the  horses  of  a  French  diligence  would  all 
have  halted  sympathetically,  at  the  invitation  of  the  driver. 
I  hate  a  mule  most  thoroughly,  for  there  is  something  abor- 
tive in  every  thing  it  does,  even  to  its  very  bray.  An  ass, 
on  the  contrary,  has  something  hearty  and  whole-souled 
about  it.  Jack  begins  his  bray  with  a  modest  whistle,  ri- 
sing gradually  to  the  top  of  his  powers,  like  the  progressive 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  69 

eloquence  of  a  well-adjusted  oration,  and  then  as  gradually 
declining  to  a  natural  conclusion ;  but  the  mule  commences 
with  a  voice  of  thunder,  and  then,  as  if  sorry  for  what  he  has 
done,  he  stops  like  a  bully  when  throttled  in  the  midst  of  a 
threat,  or  a  clown,  who  has  begun  a  fine  speech  and  has 
not  courage  to  finish  it. 

On  our  approach  to  Tarragona,  and  when  yet  at  a  short 
distance  from  it,  we  passed  under  a  stone  arch  of  vast  di- 
mensions, and  of  elegant,  though  unadorned  construction. 
It  was  perfect  in  all  its  parts  ;  and  though  the  rains  and 
winds  of  many  centuries  had  rounded  the  angles  of  the  un- 
cemented  stones  that  composed  the  pile,  not  one  had  fallen 
from  its  place.  This  road,  then,  over  which  our  mules 
and  diligence  now  hurried  so  rapidly,  was  the  relic  of  a 
Roman  way ;  and  that  arch,  which  still  rose  over  us  in  all 
the  simple  elegance  of  classic  times,  had  been  raised  to  a 
Scipio  or  a  Cesar,  in  honour  of  some  forgotten  triumph. 

Just  before  reaching  Tarragona,  the  road  led  along  the 
beach,  where  a  number  of  boats  were  hauled  up,  with  nets 
suspended  to  their  masts.  All  was  bustle  and  activity 
among  the  Catalan  fishermen ;  some  carrying  their  fish  to 
market,  others  mending  their  nets  and  greasing  the  bottoms 
of  their  boats,  in  preparation  for  the  next  day's  voyage.  At 
the  end  of  the  beach  before  us  stood  Tarragona,  perched  on 
a  rocky  eminence.  It  was  everywhere  surrounded  with 
walls  and  irregular  fortifications,  and  bristling  with  steeples 
and  antique  towers,  while  at  the  foot  of  the  rock  was  a 
mole  stretching  far  into  the  sea,  and  giving  shelter  to  a  few 
square-rigged  and  smaller  vessels.  The  diligence  soon  ar- 
rived at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  wound  slowly  up  its  side,  enter- 
ed the  town,  and  drove  to  the  wide  open  door  of  the  posada. 
This  building  was  of  very  different  construction  from  any 
inn  I  had  yet  seen ;  for  the  whole  of  the  ground  floor  was 
left  open  for  carts  and  other  vehicles,  while  the  stables  for 
mules,  horses,  and  asses  stood  farther  in  the  rear ;  the  kitch- 


60  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

en  and  all  the  apartments  were  in  the  stories  over  head. 
Conducted  by  the  stable-boy  who  carried  my  trunk,  I  was 
able  to  find  out  the  obscure  staircase,  and  trace  my  way  to 
the  common  eating-room,  where  our  dinner  was  already 
smoking  on  the  board. 

I  found  my  companions  in  a  room  whose  balconies  over- 
looked the  Plaza,  or  large  open  square,  earnestly  employ- 
ed in  swallowing  their  food,  for  they  were  to  set  off  again 
in  a  few  moments  for  Reus,  a  very  flourishing  agricultural 
and  manufacturing  town,  which  lies  inland  from  Tarrago- 
na, and  where  the  Catalan  industry  still  continues  to  make 
head  against  the  pervading  depression.  They  soon  after 
rose  from  table,  descended,  and  took  their  seats  in  the  dili- 
gence ;  and  when  they  disappeared  at  the  end  of  the  Plaza, 
I  returned  from  the  balcony  to  which  I  had  wandered,  as  if 
loath  to  part  with  these  acquaintances  of  a  few  hours'  stand- 
ing, and  proceeded  in  silence  to  despatch  my  solitary  meal. 
Never  in  my  life  did  I  feel  more  completely  alone ;  for  the 
girl  that  waited  upon  me  at  table  spoke  even  less  Spanish 
than  myself,  and  it  was  therefore  vain  to  attempt'a  conversa- 
tion. What  would  I  not  have  given  for  the  friendly  presence 
of  my  social  and  familiar  Frenchman  ?  I  had  a  letter  for  a 
merchant,  and  the  delivery  of  it  might  have  secured  me  a 
pleasant  afternoon,  and  an  insight  into  whatever  was  cu- 
rious in  this  once  famous  city ;  but  not  feeling  in  the  most 
pleasant  mood  to  deliver  a  note  of  hand  for  hospitality,  I 
took  my  hat  and  wandered  forth  into  the  streets  of  Tarrago- 
na, without  any  fixed  purpose,  bending  my  steps  whichever 
way  chance  might  lead  them.  At  the  western  end  of  the 
Plaza  I  found  a  gate  opening  upon  a  cultivated  valleyr 
which  was  not  without  its  attractions.  Over  the  ravine  be- 
low was  an  aqueduct,  raised  upon  a  double  row  of  arches, 
which  furnished  the  city  with  water,  and  added  greatly  to 
the  beauty  of  the  scene.  I  wandered  towards  this  monu- 
ment which  Roman  hands  had  raised,  and  found  near  it  a 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  61 

small  stream,  beside  which  a  number  of  women  were  em- 
ployed in  washing.  Seating  myself  near  them,  I  listened 
to  their  prattle,  their  laugh,  and  their  song,  until  the  sun 
sank  below  the  horizon ;  and  when  they  all  gathered  their 
work  together  and  departed,  I  followed  them  into  the  city. 

As  I  returned  to  the  Plaza,  it  was  the  hour  of  paseo  or 
promenade,  and  in  any  other  city  in  Spain  it  would  have 
been  crowded  with  walkers  of  every  sex  and  age,  enjoying 
this  salutary  recreation ;  but  here  a  few  priests  and  friars, 
fewer  citizens,  and  one  or  two  Spanish  officers  grotesquely 
dressed  in  antique  cocked  hats  of  oilcloth,  military  surtouts, 
and  jingling  sabres,  were  all  who  loitered  through  the  walks. 
How  different  the  last  from  the  lighthearted  Frenchmen  I 
had  seen  at  Barcelona !  Instead  of  their  military  frank- 
ness, these  officers  scowled  on  all  who  passed  them.  There 
was  little  of  the  soldier  about  them,  except  their  thick  mus- 
taches, and  it  was  easy  to  conjecture  that  they  owed  their 
rank  rather  to  a  zeal  in  the  royalist  cause,  the  effect  either 
of  interest  or  fanaticism,  than  to  military  experience. 

As  I  looked  round  upon  the  squalid  structures  of  Tarra- 
gona, and  these  gloomy  beings  moving  among  them,  it  was 
difficult  to  believe  that  the  city,  which  now  scarce  numbers 
six  thousand  half-fed  inhabitants,  was  indeed  that  Tarraco 
which  had  been  founded  by  the  Phosnicians,  and  which, 
under  the  Romans,  counted  nearly  half  a  million  of  popula- 
tion, and  became  the  largest  city  that  ever  existed  in  Spain. 
Yet  history  furnishes  abundant  proof  of  the  importance  of 
Tarraco,  and  the  remains  of  temples  that  still  exist  in  Tar- 
ragona, of  a  palace  of  Augustus,  a  theatre,  an  amphitheatre, 
and  an  aqueduct,  are  conclusive  as  to  its  site.  It  is  suffi- 
cient, therefore,  to  name  Hamilcar,  Hannibal,  and  Asdru- 
bal,  the  Scipios,  Pompey,  Julius  Cesar,  and  Augustus,  as 
having  trod  the  soil  of  Tarragona,  to  awaken  the  loftiest 
associations. 

6 


62  A  YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 


CHAPTER   II L 

JOURNEY   TO    VALENCIA. 

New  Travelling  Companions — Departure  from  Tarragona— The 
Amposta — New  Costume — Sapper  Scene — Manners  of  Travellers — 
Journey  Renewed — The  Arrest — Valencian  Brigands — The  Murdered 
Pepe — Spanish  Justice — Vinaroz — Pepe'a  Mother — Road-side  Crosses — 
Escort — Saguntum — Valencia. 

THE  morning  after  my  solitary  ramble  among  the  ruins 
ef  Tarraco,  I  was  called  very  early,  in  order  to  be  in  readi- 
ness for  the  departure  of  the  Valencia  diligence,  in  which 
my  seat  had  previously  been  taken.  I  had  come  thus  far 
in  the  Reus  coach,  with  the  view  of  rendering  the  ride  less 
continuous,  and  travelling  as  much  as  possible  by  day.  My 
new  travelling  companions,  less  mindful  of  their  comfort, 
had  only  enjoyed  a  halt  of  two  or  three  hoursr  and  had  not, 
therefore,  been  at  the  trouble  of  undressing ;  so  that,  when 
I  entered  the  eating-room,  they  were  already  assembled. 
Among  them  was  a  middle-aged  man,  dressed  in  a  harle- 
quin frock-coat,  buttoned  high  in  the  neck,  and  covered 
with  frogs  and  gimp,  wide  striped  pantaloons,  and  brass- 
heeled  boots,  a  plush  cap  bound  with  tawdry  gold-lace, 
and  an  ample  brown  cloak,  well  lined  with  velvet.  This 
was  the  most  distinguished-looking  personage  of  our  party ; 
his  air  was  decidedly  soldierlike,  and  I  set  him  down  at 
once  as  a  military  man  ;  but  he  turned  out  to  be  only  a  Va- 
lencian merchant,  or  shopkeeper,  which  in  Spain  are  sy- 
nonymous terms,  there  being  now  no  merchants  m  the 
country,  except  those  who  likewise  keep  shops.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  Spanish  bankers  as  a  class ;  for  the  universal 
depression  of  commerce  does  not  admit  of  that  subdivision 


A  YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  .    "  63 

Of  its  pursuits  which  is  found  in  more  flourishing  countries. 
I  had  afterward  frequent  occasion  in  Spain  to  notice  the 
military  air  and  bearing  even  of  its  more  peaceable  inhabi- 
tants, aad  a  disposition  in  them  to  increase  this  effect  by 
their  mode  of  dressing.  This  fierce-looking  but  good-na- 
tured Valencian,  as  he  proved  to  be,  had  with  him  his  wife, 
a  woman  of  thirty,  round  and  fat,  as  Spanish  matrons  usual- 
ly are.  Their  daughter,  who  sat  between  them,  with  a 
shawl  covering  her  head  and  neck,  instead  of  the  cooler 
mantilla,  was  an  interesting  girl  of  fifteen.  The  rest  of  my 
future  companions  were  students,  going  to  Valencia  to  at- 
tend the  university,  whose  exercises  were  to  commence 
with  the  coming  November.  They  were  all  accoutred  in 
the  gloomy  garb  in  which  alone  science  may  be  wooed  in 
Spain,  and  with  which  the  life  and  animation  of  counte- 
nance incidental  to  youth,  especially  when  thus  relieved 
from  the  eye  of  authority  and  brought  into  congenial  com- 
pany, were  utterly  at  variance. 

The  party  thus  assembled,  and  of  which  I  now  became 
one,  was  seated  round  a  deal  table,  taking  chocolate  from 
cups  scarcely  bigger  than  wine-glasses,  which  they  ate 
singularly,  by  dipping  narrow  slices  of  bread  into  it,  care- 
fully rubbing  the  sides  of  the  cups,  that  the  scanty  pittance 
might  not  be  diminished,  and  each  finishing  with  a  glass 
of  water.  This  chocolate,  of  such  universal  use  in  Spain, 
is  a  composition  of  cocoa,  sugar,  and  cinnamon,  carefully 
ground  together  and  formed  into  cakes.  To  prepare  the 
usual  portion  for  one  person,  an  ounce  is  thrown  into  three 
times  its  weight  of  water,  and,  when  dissolved  by  heat,  it 
is  stirred  by  means  of  a  piece  of  wood  turned  rapidly  be- 
tween the  palms  of  the  hands,  until  the  whole  has  a  frothy 
consistency.  .  When  the  chocolate  was  despatched,  and 
the  no  less  important  matter  of  paying  for  it  and  rewarding 
the  maid  attended  to,  we  all  obeyed  the  summons  of  the 
mayoral,  took  our  seats  in  the  diligence  agreeably  to  the 


64  A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

way-bill,  and  were  soon  without  the  ruinous  walls  of  Tar- 
ragona. 

On  leaving  Tarragona  the  road  passes  through  a  country 
of  vines  and  olives,  tolerably  well  cultivated,  keeping  gen- 
erally to  the  level  of  the  seacoast,  and  only  seeking  the  in- 
terior when  necessary  to  avoid  a  projection  of  land  and  too 
great  an  angle.  This  is  the  case  at  Col-du-Balaguer, 
which,  as  its  French  name  indicates,  is  a  narrow  pass  lying 
between  two  mountains.  The  castle  of  Balaguer  crowns 
the  crest  of  the  mountain  on  the  right,  and  commands  com- 
pletely the  passage  of  the  defile.  Beyond  this  the  road 
passes  over  a  deep  break,  called  Barranco-de-la-Horca — 
Ravine  of  the  Gallows.  This  place  was  formerly  infested 
by  robbers,  who,  taking  advantage  of  the  seclusion  and  con- 
cealment of  the  ravine,  and  the  impossibility  of  escape  from 
it,  would  take  their  stand  at  the  bottom,  survey  at  leisure 
those  who  entered  the  pass,  and  then  selecting  their  game, 
plunder  and  murder  it  at  pleasure.  To  check  these  atroci- 
ties, a  gallows  was  erected  on  the  very  site,  where  every 
robber  caught  in  the  neighbourhood  was  hanged  with  little 
ceremony. 

Before  reaching  Amposta  we  came  to  a  fork  of  the  roads, 
where  a  small  covered  cart  was  in  waiting  to  receive  the 
mail  for  Tortosa,  a  considerable  city  raised  to  the  munici- 
pal dignity  by  Scipio.  While  the  mail  was  shifted  from 
the  top  of  the  diligence,  we  all  set  off  to  walk  the  remainder 
of  the  distance  to  the  Ebro.  The  country  throughout  was 
a  barren  and  sandy  down,  destitute  entirely  of  trees  and 
underwood ;  so  that  it  was  easy  to  cateh  sight  of  the 
neighbouring  sea,  and  of  a  number  of  small  keys  which  lay 
along  the  coast,  forming  an  interior  navigation,  as  is  the 
case  in  other  parts  of  the  Gulf  of  Lyons,  and  in  a  still 
more  remarkable  manner  along  the  coast  of  the  United 
States. 

We  reached  the  Ebro  at  four  in  the  evening,  just  as  the 


A'  YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  65 

diligence  drove  down  to  the  bank.  The  river  before  us 
was  the  Iberus  of  the  ancients,  the  classic  stream  which  has 
furnished  the  poet  with  another  and  a  softer  name  for  Spain, 
and  which  in  distant  days  has  witnessed  scenes  of  the 
highest  importance.  It  was  on  this  Ebro  that  the  Scipios, 
Cneius  and  Publius,  met  and  conquered  Asdrubal,  when 
on  his  way  into  Italy  with  a  strong  force  to  join  his  for- 
tunes to  those  of  his  kinsman  Hannibal,  already  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Rome  ;  and  it  was  thus  that  the  destinies 
of  the  future  mistress  of  the  world  were  decided  by  a  battle 
fought  in  Spain,  as  was  afterward  the  case  on  the  banks  of 
this  same  stream  in  the  civil  wars  of  Pompey  and  Cesar. 

No  river,  however,  can  stand  in  greater  need  of  the  con- 
secrating power  of  associations  of  the  past  than  the  Ebro, 
at  least  such  as  it  presents  itself  at  Amposta ;  for  it  is  a 
turbid  stream,  flowing  through  a  flat,  sandy,  and  uncultivated 
country ;  with  naught  but  a  desert  on  the  left  bank,  and  ou 
the  right  the  poverty-stricken  town  of  Amposta,  with  totter- 
ing battlements  skirting  the  course  of  the  stream,  and  a  few 
antique  coasters  and  fishing-boats,  clinging  to  them  for  sup- 
port against  the  rapidity  of  the  current.  Here  we  found  a 
large  boat  in  waiting  to  receive  the  diligence.  The  mules 
were  detached  from  it,  except  two,  which  drew  it  on  board  ; 
this  done,  the  remainder  of  the  team  were  fastened  to  the 
boat  by  a  long  line,  and  made  to  draw  it  far  up  the  stream, 
when  we  struck  across,  and,  by  the  assistance  of  two  pon- 
derous oars,  were  enabled  to  gain  the  opposite  beach,  and 
the  kingdom  of  Valencia. 

We  were  not  long  in  reaching  the  posada  at  which  we 
were  to  sup  and  pass  the  night,  and  which  lay  near  the 
ferry.  Here  preparations  were  at  once  made  for  our  even- 
ing meal,  while,  to  pass  the  time,  the  passengers  loitered 
along  the  bank  of  the  river  or  through  the  cheerless  streets 
of  Amposta.  The  fishermen  and  labourers  had  already  re- 
turned from  their  daily  occupations,  and  were  sitting  alone, 

6* 


66  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

at  the  thresholds  of  their  doors,  or  else  were  collected  in 
groups  at  the  corners,  eying  us  as  we  passed,  and  making 
remarks,  doubtless,  upon  the  singularity  of  our  attire  com- 
pared with  their  own.  My  own  astonishment  was  probably 
greater  than  theirs  ;  for  I  had  never  before  seen  the  singular 
costume  of  the  Valencian  peasant.  In  the  short  distance  of  a 
few  leagues,  and  without  any  sensible  change  of  climate,  the 
long  pantaloon  of  the  Catalan,  extending  from  his  shoulders 
to  the  ground,  is  exchanged  for  loose  breeches  of  linen, 
called  bragas,  which  tie  over  the  hips  with  a  drawing-string, 
and  which,  like  the  Highland  kilt,  terminate  above  the  knee. 
Besides  this  airy  and  convenient  garment,  the  Valencian 
wears  a  shirt,  a  waistcoat,  straw  or  hempen  sandals,  and  a 
long  red  cap  like  the  Catalan,  or  a  cotton  handkerchief, 
tied  round  the  head  and  hanging  down  behind  ;  his  legs  are 
in  general  bare,  or  only  covered  with  a  leathern  gaiter  laced 
on  tightly,  or  more  frequently  a  stocking  without  a  foot. 
Instead  of  the  velvet  jacket  and  silver  buttons  of  the  Cata- 
lan, the  Valencian  wears  a  long  woollen  robe,  called  manta, 
edged  with  fringe,  and  checkered  like  a  plaid  ;  this  hangs 
carelessly  over  one  shoulder  on  ordinary  occasions,  and  when 
the  air  is  sharp  he  wraps  it  closely  about  him.  If  he  has  a 
burden  to  carry,  he  puts  it  in  one  end  of  his  manta,  and  lets 
it  hang  behind  him,  while  the  remainder  serves  to  keep  him 
warm  ;  when  it  rains,  he  thrusts  his  head  through  a  hole  in 
the  middle  of  it,  and  it  falls  in  folds  over  his  shoulders.  Nor 
was  there  a  less  striking  difference  in  the  figure  and  faces 
of  these  natives  of  two  neighbouring  provinces  of  the  same 
kingdom,  than  I  had  noticed  in  their  dress.  The  stature  of 
the  Valencians  seemed  less  than  that  of  the  Catalans,  and 
their  faces,  instead  of  indicating  a  northern  origin,  were  of 
an  Asiatic  cast.  Indeed,  as  I  looked  upon  their  red  and 
well-turned  limbs  and  sunburnt  faces,  unshaded  save  by  the 
straight  black  hair  that  hung  about  them,  I  was  strongly  re- 
minded of  the  red  inhabitants  of  our  forests. 


A   YEAR  IN    SPAIN.  67 

When  the  sun  was  down  I  wandered  back  to  the  posa- 
da,  and  found  a  group  of  three  of  these  oddly-attired  Valen- 
cians  sitting  before  the  entrance  to  the  courtyard,  with 
their  naked  legs  crossed  before  them,  and  busily  engaged 
with  a  pack  of  dirty  cards,  which  they  dealt  upon  the  man- 
ta  of  one  of  them  spread  out  in  the  midst.  They  had  been 
thus  engaged  when  the  diligence  arrived,  were  still  at  it 
when  I  went  forth  to  walk,  and  now,  at  the  end  of  an  hour, 
the  gambling  continued  with  undiminished  ardour.  Lean- 
ing against  the  wall,  occupied  in  overlooking  the  fate  of  the 
game,  was  a  tall  and  graceful  stripling,  in  the  first  bloom 
of  opening  manhood,  whose  half-listless  indifference  con- 
trasted singularly  with  the  interested  and  excited  energy 
of  the  gamblers,  which  gave  a  still  more  ferocious  expres- 
sion to  countenances  in  themselves  sinister  and  forbidding. 
The  simple  innocence  of  the  youth  was  brought  more  stri- 
kingly into  relief  by  the  comparison,  and  the  repose  of  his 
attitude  and  the  beauty  of  his  person,  which  even  the  garb 
of  Catalonia  did  not  disfigure,  formed  altogether,  in  con- 
nexion with  the  ill-favoured  figures  below  him,  a  group 
which  a  painter  would  have  been  pleased  to  sketch,  and 
which  after  circumstances  tended  to  impress  indelibly  on 
my  memory.  This  young  Catalan  was  the  postillion  who 
was  to  conduct  us  the  first  stage  from  Amposta  on  the  follow- 
ing morning.  His  dress  evinced  more  than  usual  care,  and 
from  his  neck  depended  the  rosary  which  a  maternal  hand 
had  placed  to  guard  from  the  evil  which  was  too  soon 
to  overtake  him.  Within  the  court  our  mayoral  had  been 
employed  in  oiling  the  wheels  of  the  diligence ;  and  hav- 
ing finished  his  task,  called  to  Pepe,  for  such  was  the  name 
of  the  postillion,  to  aid  him  in  turning  the  unwieldy  vehi- 
cle, in  readiness  for  our  departure,  which  was  fixed  for  two 
in  the  morning.  I  put  my  hand  to  a  wheel,  to  assist  the 
operation,  and  when  every  thing  was  adjusted  to  his  wish, 
the  mayoral  drew  on  his  jacket,  pulled  his  red  cap  closer 


68  A  YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

over  his  head,  as  if  sensible  of  the  growing  coolness,  and 
having  thrust  his  hands  under  the  sash  which  girded  his 
loins,  we  continued  to  talk  of  the  journey  of  the  next  day, 
of  Valencia,  the  fair  city  to  which  we  were  going,  and  of 
a  thousand  other  things,  until  the  summons  came  that  sup- 
per was  ready.  As  I  tiirned  to  depart,  I  noticed  that  the 
ruffianly  gamblers  continued  their  game,  and  Pepe  gazed 
on  with  listless  indifference. 

I  found  our  table  spread  in  a  very  large  room,  which  was 
strewed  with  boxes  and  straw  panniers,  while  in  one  cor- 
ner was  a  heap  of  algarroba  beans,  which  are  gathered 
from  a  large  overgrown  tree,  very  common  in  this  part  of 
the  country,  and  used  as  fodder  for  mules.  In  the  midst 
of  all  this  confusion  was  a  wooden  table  covered  with  a 
clean  cloth,  plates  of  English  earthenware,  and  an  odd  as- 
sortment of  knives,  with  French  forks  of  iron,  tinned  over 
in  imitation  of  silver.  My  companions  were  already  seat- 
ed upon  long  wooden  benches,  and  silently  employed  with 
the  soup.  This  was  succeeded  by  the  puchero  or  olla,  a 
dish  of  universal  use  in  Spain,  which  takes  its  name  from 
the  earthen  jug  or  iron  pot  in  which  it  is  prepared.  It 
consists  of  an  odd  mixture  of  beef,  chicken,  a  species  of 
pulse  called  garbanzo,  a  kind  of  chick-pea,  in  great  favour 
among  the  Spaniards,  and  of  a  great  variety  of  vegetables, 
the  whole  being  seasoned  plentifully  with  garlic,  and  a 
small  piece  of  salt  pork  or  bacon.  This  is  the  common 
olla,  such  as  one  meets  with  everywhere  in  Spain  ;  but  the 
olla  podrida  is  a  rarer  dish,  a  species  of  ark  where  animals 
of  every  colour  and  every  kind  meet,  and  are  represented 
as  in  a  common  congress.  After  the  puchero  came  roast 
fowls  and  salad,  which  we  ate  together  as  in  France  ;  and 
/then  a  dessert  of  olives,  apples,  figs,  almonds,  together  with 
grapes  dried  in  the  shade,  which,  though  a  little  withered, 
still  preserved  their  juice  and  sweetness.  Last  of  all,  a 
decanter* of  brandy  impregnated  with  anise,  as  Spanish 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN  69 

brandy  usually  is,  was  placed  on  the  table.  Each  person, 
ladies  and  all,  swallowed  a  portion  of  it  unadulterated,  from 
small  Dutch  cordial-glasses  curiously  ornamented  and  gild- 
ed, which,  from  the  manner  in  which  they  were  produced 
from  an  antique  chest  that  stood  in  the  corner,  were  evi- 
dently in  high  estimation  at  Amposta. 

Such  was  the  nature  of  our  repast ;  and  a  hungry  man 
could  scarcely  have  complained  of  it.  But  the  manner  in 
which  it  was  eaten,  or  rather  devoured,  was  by  no  means 
so  free  from  objection.  Each  of  our  Catalan  students  would 
grapple  the  dish  he  fancied,  tear  off  a  portion  wi^h  his  fork 
or  fingers,  as  was  most  convenient,  and  then  resign  what 
was  left  to  the  first  applicant.  I  thought  that  I  had  never 
before  seen  people  behave  so  ill  at  table  ;  unless  it  had 
been  on  board  of  a  steamboat  on  our  Hudson,  where  an 
elegance  of  decoration  unknown  in  other  countries,  and 
still  more  the  harmony  of  surrounding  nature,  would  neces- 
sarily soften  the  manners  and  promote  refinement,  were 
they  not  counteracted  by  the  spirit  of  despatch,  which  all 
seem  to  catch  sympathetically  from  revolving  wheels  and 
dashing  paddles. 

When  these  uncouth  Catalans  were  pretty  well  gorged, 
they  gradually  became  less  exclusive,  and  would  occasion- 
ally offer  to  others  the  dish  of  which  they  had  already  par- 
taken, and,  growing  more  polite  as  they  grew  less  hungry, 
would  even  sometimes  help  others  before  serving  them- 
selves. This  politeness  was  more  especially  extended  to 
our  fair  Valenciana ;  and  when  the  dessert  came,  each  one 
who  sat  near  her,  after  paring  an  apple,  would  first  offer 
her  a  portion  of  it  on  the  end  of  his  knife.  This  she  al- 
ways accepted,  and  ate  either  the  whole  or  part  of  it,  as  if 
usage  rendered  it  obligatory,  which  I  afterward  found  to  be 
congenial  to  the  old  and  popular  usages  of  the  land.  Thus, 
the  Spaniard,  particularly  of  the  lower  classes,  offers  the 
cup  from  which  he  is  drinking  to  the  by-standers,  and  rathejr 


70  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

thinks  his  offer  slighted  if  the  cup  be  not  at  least  touched 
to  the  lips.  It  is  a  custom  of  hospitable  origin,  and  worthy 
of  respect.  These  acts  of  courtesy  were  sometimes  ac- 
companied with  gallant  speeches,  which,  instead  of  being 
received  amiss  by  the  lively  girl,  either  excited  a  laugh  or 
a  repartee.  After  being  accustomed  to  the  retiring  modesty 
of  young  girls  in  France,  I  was  much  startled  at  this  free- 
dom of  manners  in  our  Valenciana,  and  still  more  so  at  the 
indifference  of  her  father  and  mother,  who,  so  long  as  they 
saw  that  she  was  in  sight  and  sitting  between  them,  seemed 
to  care  little  for  a  few  hardy  words. 

Supper  being  over,  and  paper  cigars  lighted  by  most  of 
the  company,  the  landlady  went  round  the  table  to  collect 
her  dues,  followed  by  a  modern  Maritornes,  with  hand 
outstretched  to  receive  the  expected  gratuity.  The  de- 
mand was  sixteen  reals  for  each,  and  two  more  for  those 
who  wanted  chocolate  in  the  morning.  The  Catalans  ex- 
claimed against  the  charge,  pronounced  it  outrageous,  and 
swore  that  at  least  ten  reals  must  be  for  the  "  ruido  de  casa," 
or  noise  of  the  house,  which  is  a  fair  subject  of  taxation  in 
any  Spanish  posada.  Finding,  however,  that  the  matter 
was  not  to  be  got  rid  of  in  any  other  way,  each  fell  to 
chasing  his  money  about  in  his  pockets,  and  having  drawn 
it  forth,  reluctant  to  appear  on  such  an  occasion,  the  ac- 
count was  at  length  balanced  ;  not,  however,  without  a  sup- 
plemental dispute  with  Maritornes,  on  the  question  of  a  real 
or  a  half  real.  This  over,  we  were  shown  to  our  sleeping- 
place,  which  was  next  to  the  eating-room,  and  which  had  a 
small  double  door  fastened  with  a  swinging  bar,  as  in  our 
stables.  It  had  likewise  a  single  window  with  an  iron 
grating,  which  looked  upon  the  courtyard,  and,  instead  of 
a  sash,  was  furnished  with  a  door.  Eight  beds,  spread  on 
cots,  were  arranged  at  convenient  distances  round  the  room 
for  the  accommodation  of  our  party,  with  the  exception  of 
the  Valencian  family,  and  at  the  head  of  each  couch  was  a 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  71 

rickety  chair,  which,  from  its  own  infirmity,  or  the  inequal- 
ities of  the  earthen  floor,  leaned  fearfully  with  one  leg  in  the 
air,  or  else  sought  support  by  reclining  against  the  bed. 
Having  closed  the  window  to  keep  out  the  night-air,  I 
chose  a  bed,  and,  without  investigating  the  sheets  too  nice- 
ly, threw  myself  upon  it,  and  was  soon  unconscious  of  the 
conversation  which  my  companions  still  maintained  in  their 
discordant  Catalan,  as  well  as  of  the  munching  of  the  mules 
and  jingling  of  their  bells  in  the  adjoining  stable. 

Towards  two  the  next  morning,  a  knocking  at  the  court- 
yard gate  announced  the  arrival  of  the  courier  from  Tor- 
tosa,  for  whom  we  were  waiting  to  recommence  our  jour- 
ney. This  noise  was  succeeded  by  the  voices  of  the  host- 
lers, and  jingling  of  bells,  as  the  mules  were  brought  out 
and  attached  to  the  diligence  ;  and  very  soon  after,  all  fur- 
ther idea  of  sleep  was  banished  by  the  mayoral,  with  a  lamp 
in  his  hand,  putting  his  head  and  red  cap  inside  of  the  door, 
and  shouting  long  and  loudly,  "  Arriba !  arriba !  seniores  ! 
ya  vamos — Up  !  up  and  away,  sirs  !"  In  a  few  minutes  we 
had  drawn  on  our  clothes,  swallowed  the  chocolate  with 
which  the  maid  was  waiting  in  the  outer  apartment,  and 
taken  our  seats  as  before.  The  mayoral  placed  himself  on 
the  box,  and  our  young  Catalan  postillion,  taking  the  leading 
mule  by  the  head,  guided  it  out  of  the  court,  and  continued  to 
run  beside  it  until  we  were  completely  clear  of  Amposta,  and 
on  the  high  road  to  Valencia  ;  then  releasing  the  impatient 
animal,  he  bestowed  the  customary  lash  on  it,  and  on  each  of 
its  followers,  and  vaulted  to  the  station  of  his  companion. 
The  mayoral  relinquished  the  reins  to  the  lad,  whom  he 
called  Pepito,  which  is  a  diminutive  of  Pepe  or  Jose,  and  is 
expressive  of  affection.  This  Pepito  was  even  more  lively 
and  active  than  is  common  with  those  of  his  age  and  stirring 
occupation ;  and  when  he  had  taken  the  reins,  as  the  may- 
oral rolled  himself  up  in  blankets  and  prepared  for  a  nap, 
he  spoke  inspiringly  to  the  mules,  and  smacked  his  whip, 


72  A  YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

as  if  satisfied  and  happy.  Poor  fellow  ! — I  remember  these 
little  circumstances  the  better  from  the  fate  which  after- 
ward befell  him. 

Before  we  had  been  an  hour  beyond  the  barrier  of  Am- 
posta,  our  mayoral  had  yielded  to  the  drowsiness  occasion- 
ed by  two  sleepless  nights,  and  was  snoring  audibly  as  he 
leaned  his  head  against  the  window  in  front  of  me.  Pe- 
pito,  too,  had  wearied  of  his  own  gayety,  and  ceasing  to  en- 
courage the  mules  with  whip  and  voice,  allowed  them  to 
trot  onward  in  the  middle  of  the  road  at  their  own  gait. 
Beside  me,  on  the  right,  was  a  young  man  whom  I  had 
known  to  be  a  candidate  for  the  priesthood,  by  a  narrow 
stock  of  black  silk  with  violet  stripes,  which  he  wore  about 
his  neck,  in  addition  to  the  common  garb  of  the  student. 
Though  there  were  in  the  party  several  other  aspirants  to 
the  sacred  office,  he  alone  was  moping  and  reserved ;  in- 
deed, he  seemed  to  have  put  on  in  anticipation  that  cloak  of 
gravity,  which,  as  it  is  in  the  Spanish  church  the  surest 
road  to  honours  and  preferment,  is  also  the  closest  covering 
for  an  irregular  life.  Though  we  were  alone  together  in 
the  cabriolet,  we  had  scarce  exchanged  a  dozen  words  since 
leaving  Tarragona ;  and  now  he  too  was  motionless  in  his 
corner,  either  wrapped  in  pious  abstraction  from  the  cares  of 
this  world,  or  buried  in  the  more  mundane  forgetfulness  of 
sleep.  Thus  powerfully  invited  by  the  example  of  those 
who  were  near  me,  I  caught  the  drowsy  infection,  and  hav- 
ing nestled  snugly  into  my  corner,  soon  lost  entirely  the 
realities  of  existence  in  that  mysterious  state  which  Provi- 
dence has  provided  as  a  cure  for  every  ill. 

As  the  thoughts  of  a  man  when  alone  in  a  distant  land, 
without  any  outward  objects  to  attract  his  attention,  are  apt 
to  do,  mine,  before  I  fell  asleep,  had  wandered  back  to  a 
home  from  which  I  had  been  some  time  absent,  and  which, 
in  contradiction  to  every  other  law  of  attraction,  is  ever 
found  to  draw  us  more  powerfully  the  further  we  recede. 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  73 

These  waking  reflections  passed  insensibly  into  sleeping 
dreams,  and  I  soon  realized  what  before  I  had  only  hoped  ; 
for,  if  it  be  true  that  men  easily  believe  whatever  they  anx- 
iously desire,  how  much  more  is  this  the  case  when  sleep 
has  taken  the  place  of  sensibility.  Thus  I  was  suddenly 
transported  some  thousands  of  miles  nearer  home,  and  hav- 
ing connected  what  was  real  in  my  situation  with  what  was 
only  fanciful,  I  believed  that  I  was  on  the  last  stage  of  my 
journey  towards  my  native  city. 

This  pleasing  deception  had  not  lasted  long,  when  the 
noise  of  the  hoofs  and  bells  of  our  mules,  and  the  clattering 
of  the  wheels,  were  silenced.  The  rapid  progress  of  the 
diligence  ceasing  as  suddenly,  and  my  body,  which  it  had 
kept  snug  in  the  corner,  still  retaining  its  momentum,  was 
thrown  forward  with  my  head  against  the  panel.  I  was  now 
awake ;  but,  as  if  loath  to  relinquish  so  pleasing  a  dream, 
I  at  first  fancied  myself  arrived  at  the  end  of  my  journey. 
The  delusion  was  but  momentary.  There  were  voices 
without,  speaking  in  accents  of  violence,  and  whose  idiom, 
was  not  of  my  country.  I  now  roused  myself,  rubbed  my 
eyes,  and  directed  them  out  of  the  windows. 

By  the  light  of  a  lantern  that  blazed  from  the  top  of  the 
diligence,  I  could  discover  that  this  part  of  the  road  was 
skirted  by  olive-trees,  and  that  the  mules,  having  come  in 
contact  with  some  obstacle  to  their  progress,  had  been 
thrown  into  confusion,  and  stood  huddled  together  as  if 
afraid  to  move,  gazing  upon  each  other,  with  pricked  ears  and 
frightened  aspect.  A  single  glance  to  the  right  hand  gave  a 
clew  to  the  mystery  ;  just  beside  the  fore  wheel  of  the  dili- 
gence stood  a  man  dressed  in  that  wild  garb  of  Valencia 
which  I  had  seen  for  the  first  time  in  Amposta  ;  his  red  cap, 
drawn  closely  over  his  forehead,  reached  behind  far  down 
his  back,  and  his  striped  manta,  instead  of  being  rolled  round 
him,  hung  unembarrassed  from  one  shoulder  ;  while  his  left 
leg  was  thrown  forward  in  preparation,  a  musket  was  level- 

VOL.  L— D  7 


74  A   YEAR    IN   SPAIN. 

led  in  his  hands,  along  the  barrel  of  which  his  eye  glared 
fiercely  upon  the  visage  of  the  conductor.  Ori  ihe  other 
side,  the  scene  was  some  what  different;  Pepe  being  awake 
when  the  interruption  took  place,  was  at  once  sensible  of 
its  nature  ;  he  had  abandoned  the  reins,  and  jumped  hoiu 
his  seat  to  the  road-side,  intending  to  escape  among  the 
trees.  Unhappy  youth,  that  he  should  not  have  accom- 
plished his  purpose  !  He  was  met  by  the  muzzle  of  a  mus- 
ket when  he  had  scarce  touched  the  ground,  and  a  third 
ruffian  appearing  at  the  same  moment  from  the  treacherous 
concealment  of  the  tree  towards  which  he  was  flying,  he 
was  effectually  taken  and  brought  round  into  the  road,  where 
he  was  made  to  stretch  himself  upon  his  face,  as  had  al- 
ready been  done  with  the  conductor. 

I  could  now  distinctly  hear  one  of  these  robbers — for 
such  they  were — inquire  in  Spanish  of  the  mayoral  as  to 
the  number  of  passengers  ;  if  any  were  armed ;  whether 
there  was  any  money  in  the  diligence  ;  and  then,  as  a  con- 
clusion to  the  interrogatory,  demanding,  "  La  bolsa  !"  in  a 
more  angry  tone.  The  poor  fellow  meekly  obeyed ;  he 
raised  himself  high  enough  to  draw  a  large  leathern  purse 
from  an  inner  pocket,  and,  stretching  his  hand  upward  to 
deliver  it,  he  said,  "  Toma  listed  caballerorpera  no  me  quita 
usted  la  vida  ! — Take  it,  cavalier,  but  spare  my  life  !"  Such, 
however,  did  not  seem  to  be  the  robber's  intention ;  bring- 
ing a  stone  from  a  large  heap  which  had  been  collected  for 
the  repair  of  the  road,  he  fell  to  beating  the  mayoral  upon 
the  head  with  it.  The  unhappy  man  sent  forth  the  most 
piteous  cries  for  "  misericordia"  and  "  piedad ;"  invoking 
the  interposition  of  :t  Jesu  Christo,  Santiago  Apostol  y  Mar- 
tir,  La  Virgin  del  Pilar,"  and  all  those  sacred  names,  held 
in  awful  reverence  by  the  people,  and  most  likely  to  arrest 
the  rage  of  his  assassin.  All  in  vain ;  he  might  as  well 
have  asked  pity  of  the  stone  that  smote  him,  as  of  the 
wretch  who  wielded  it.  The  murderer  redoubled  his  blows, 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  75 

tmtil,  growing  furious  in  the  task,  he  laid  his  musket  beside 
him,  and  worked  with  both  hands  upon  his  victim.  The 
supplications  which  blows  had  first  excited,  blows  at  length 
quelled  ;  they  had  gradually  increased  with  the  suffering 
to  the  roost  terrible  shrieks,  then  declined  into  low  and  in- 
articulate moans,  until  a  deep-drawn  and  agonized  gasp  for 
breath,  and  an  occasional  convulsion,  alone  remained  .to  show 
that  the  vital  principle  had  not  yet  departed. 

It  fared  even  worse  with  Pepe,  though,  instead  of  the 
cries  for  pity  which  had  availed  the  mayoral  so  little,  he 
uttered  nothing  but  low  moans,  that  died  away  in  the  dust 
beneath  him.  One  might  have  thought  that  the  extreme 
youth  of  the  lad  would  have  ensured  him  compassion ;  but 
no  such  thing  ;  the  robbers  were  doubtless  of  Amposta,  and, 
being  known  to  him,  dreaded  discovery ;  so  that  what  in 
almost  any  other  situation  in  the  world  would  have  given  a 
claim  to  kindness,  was  here  the  cause  of  perdition.  I  even 
fancied  that  I  could  detect  in  the  one  whom  I  had  first 
seen  something  that  reminded  me  of  the  gamblers  of  the 
previous  evening  in  the  courtyard  of  the  posada,  and  who, 
perhaps,  while  I  had  fancied  them  deeply  engaged  with 
their  cards,  were  only  eying  the  numbers  and  arrange- 
ment of  our  party.  When  both  the  victims  had  been  ren- 
dered insensible,  there  was  a  short  pause  and  a  consulta- 
tion in  a  low  tone  between  the  ruffians,  who  then  proceed- 
ed to  execute  their  plans.  The  first  went  round  to  the 
left  side  of  the  diligence,  and  having  unhooked  the  iron 
shoe  and  placed  it  under  the  wheel  as  an  additional  secu- 
rity against  escape,  opened  the  door  of  the  interior,  and 
mounted  on  the  steps,  I  could  hear  him  distinctly  utter  a 
terrible  threat  in  Spanish,  and  demand  an  ounce  of  gold 
from  each  of  the  passengers.  This  was  answered  by  an 
expostulation  from  the  Valencian  shopkeeper,  who  said  that 
they  had  not  so  much  money,  but  what  they  had  would  be 
given  willingly.  There  was  then  a  jingling  of  purses, 
D  2 


76  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

some  pieces  dropping  on  the  floor  in  the  hurry  and  agita- 
tion of  the  moment.  Having  remained  a  moment  at  the 
door  of  the  interior,  he  did  not  come  to  the  cabriolet,  but 
passed  at  once  to  the  rotunda.  Here  he  used  greater  cau- 
tion, doubtless  from  having  seen  the  evening  before,  at 
Amposta,  that  it  contained  no  women,  but  six  young  stu- 
dents, who  were  all  stout  fellows.  They  were  made  to 
come  down,  one  by  one,  from  their  stronghold,  deliver 
their  money  and  watches,  and  then  lie  flat  upon  their  faces 
in  the  road. 

Meanwhile,  the  second  robber,  after  consulting  with  his 
companion,  had  returned  to  the  spot  where  the  zagal  Pepe 
lay  rolling  from  side  to  side.  As  he  went  towards  him  he 
drew  a  knife  from  the  folds  of  his  sash,  and,  having  opened 
it,  he  placed  one  of  his  naked  legs  on  either  side  of  his  vic- 
tim ;  pushing  aside  the  jacket  of  the  youth,  he  bent  forward 
and  dealt  him  repeated  blows.  The  young  priest,  my  com- 
panion, shrunk  back  into  the  corner,  and  hid  his  face  within 
his  trembling  fingers ;  but  my  own  eyes  seemed  spell- 
bound, for  I  could  not  withdraw  them  from  the  cruel  spec- 
tacle, and  my  ears  were  more  sensible  than  ever.  Though 
the  windows  at  the  front  and  sides  were  still  closed,  I 
could  distinctly  hear  each  stroke  of  the  murderous  knife,  as 
it  entered  its  victim  ;  it  was  not  a  blunt  sound,  as  of  a  weap- 
on that  meets  with  positive  resistance,  but  a  hissing  noise, 
as  if  the  household  implement,  made  to  part  the  bread  of 
peace,  performed  unwillingly  its  task  of  treachery.  This 
moment  was  the  unhappiest  of  my  life  ;  and  it  struck  me  at 
the  time  that  if  any  situation  could  be  more  worthy  of  pity 
than  to  die  the  dog's  death  of  poor  Pepe,  it  was  to  be  com- 
pelled to  witness  his  fate  without  the  power  to  aid  him. 

Having  completed  the  deed  to  his  satisfaction,  this  cold- 
blooded murderer  came  to  the  door  of  the  cabriolet,  and  en- 
deavoured to  open  it ;  he  shook  it  violently,  calling  to  us  to 
assist  him ;  but  it  had  chanced  hitherto  that  we  had  always 


A   TEAR   IN    SPAIN.  77 

got  out  on  the  other  side ;  and  the  young  priest,  who  had 
never  before  been  in  a  diligence,  thought  from  the  circum- 
stance that  there  was  but  one  door,  and  therefore  answered 
the  fellow  that  he  must  go  to  the  other  side.  On  the  first 
arrival  of  these  unwelcome  visiters,  1  had  taken  a  valuable 
watch  which  I  wore  from  my  waistcoat  pocket,  and  stowed 
it  snugly  in  my  boot ;  but  when  they  fell  to  beating  in  the 
heads  of  our  guides,  I  bethought  me  that  the  few  dollars  I 
carried  in  my  purse  might  not  satisfy  them,  and  replaced  it 
again,  in  readiness  to  be  delivered  at  the  shortest  notice. 
These  precautions  were,  however,  unnecessary  ;  the  third 
ruffian,  who  had  continued  to  make  the  circuit  of  the  dili- 
gence with  his  musket  in  his  hand,  paused  a  moment  in  the 
road  ahead  of  us,  and  having  placed  his  head  to  the  ground 
as  if  to  listen,  presently  came  and  spoke  in  an  under  tone 
to  his  companions.  They  stood  for  a  moment  over  the 
mayoral,  and  struck  his  head  with  the  butts  of  their  mus- 
kets, while  the  fellow  who  had  before  used  the  knife  re- 
turned to  make  a  few  farewell  thrusts,  and  in  another  mo- 
ment they  had  all  disappeared  from  around  us. 

In  consequence  of  the  darkness,  which  was  only  partially 
dispelled  in  front  of  the  diligence  by  the  lantern  which  had 
enabled  me  to  see  what  occurred  so  immediately  before  me, 
we  were  not  at  once  sensible  of  the  departure  of  the  rob- 
bers, but  continued  near  half  an  hour  after  their  disappear- 
ance in  the  same  situation  in  which  they  left  us.  The 
short  breathing  and  chattering  of  teeth,  lately  so  audible 
from  within  the  interior,  gradually  subsided,  and  were  suc- 
ceeded by  whispers  of  the  females,  and  soon  after  by  words 
pronounced  in  a  louder  tone  ;  while  our  mangled  guides,  by 
groans  and  writhing,  gave  evidence  of  returning  animation. 
My  companion  and  I  slowly  let  down  the  windows  beside 
us,  and,  having  looked  round  a  while,  we  opened  the  door 
and  descended.  The  door  of  the  interior  stood  open  as  it 
had  been  left,  and  those  within  sat  each  in  his  place  in  anx- 

7* 


78  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

ious  conversation.  In  the  rear  of  the  coach  was  a  black 
heap  on  the  ground,  which  I  presently  recognised  as  the  six 
students  who  had  occupied  the  rotunda,  and  who,  lying  flat 
upon  their  faces,  made  the  oddest  figure  one  can  conceive, 
rolled  up  in  their  black  cloaks,  with  their  cocked  hats  of 
the  same  solemn  colour,  emerging  at  intervals  from  out  the 
heap.  As  we  came  cautiously  towards  them,  they  whis- 
pered among  each  other,  and  then  first  one  lifted  his  head  to 
look  at  us,  and  then  another,  until,  finding  that  we  were  their 
fellow-travellers,  they  all  rose  at  once  like  a  cloud,  notwith- 
standing the  threat  which  the  robbers  had  made  to  them  at 
their  departure,  to  wait  by  the  road-side,  and  shoot  down  the 
first  person  who  should  offer  to  stir.  It  will  readily  occur 
to  the  reader,  that  if  resistance  to  this  bold  and  bloody  deed 
could  have  been  made  at  all,  it  might  have  been  by  these 
six  young  men,  who,  being  together  and  acquainted  with 
each  other,  might  easily  have  acted  in  concert,  whereas  the 
rest  of  the  party  were  as  completely  separated  as  though 
they  had  been  in  distinct  vehicles.  But  if  it  be  considered 
that  they  had  been  awakened  suddenly  by  armed  ruffians, 
that  they  were  destitute  of  weapons,  and  knew  not  the 
number  of  their  assailants,  it  will  appear  more  natural  that 
they  should  have  acted  precisely  as  they  did. 

Our  first  care,  when  thus  left  to  ourselves,  was  to  see  if 
any  thing  could  be  done  for  our  unfortunate  guides.  We 
found  them  rolling  over  in  the  dust  and  moaning  inarticu- 
lately, excepting  that  the  conductor  would  occasionally 
murmur  forth  some  of  those  sainted  names,  whose  aid  he 
had  vainly  invoked  in  the  moment  of  tribulation.  Having 
taken  down  the  light  from  the  top  of  the  coach,  we  found 
them  so  much  disfigured  with  bruises  and  with  blood,  that 
recognition  would  have  been  impossible.  The  finery  of 
poor  Pepe,  his  silver  buttons  and  his  sash  of  silk,  were 
scarcely  less  disfigured  than  his  features.  There  happen- 
ed to  be  in  our  party  a  student  of  medicine,  who  now  took 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  79 

the  lead  in  the  Samaritan  office  of  binding  with  pieces  of 
linen  and  pocket  handkerchiefs  the  wounds  of  these  un- 
happy men.  While  thus  engaged,  we  heard  the  noise  of 
footsteps  in  the  direction  of  Amposta,  and  shortly  after  a  man 
came  up  with  a  musket  in  his  hand,  and  inquired  the  cause 
of  our  interruption.  Having  learned  the  truth,  and  inquired 
the  direction  which  we  supposed  the  robbers  to  have  taken, 
he  discharged  his  musket  several  times  in  that  direction. 
He  wore  a  mongrel  kind  of  uniform,  and  proved  to  be  one 
of  the  resguardo,  or  armed  police,  which  is  scattered  over 
the  country  in  Spain  for  the  prevention  of  smuggling,  and 
protection  of  lives  and  property  ;  but  its  members,  receiving 
a  salary  insufficient  for  their  support,  as  is  the  case  with 
almost  all  the  inferior  servants  of  the  Spanish  crown,  are 
obliged  to  increase  their  means  the  best  way  they  can,  and 
are  often  leagued  in  practices  which  it  is  their  business  to 
suppress.  It  would,  perhaps,  be  bold  to  say,  that  this  man 
was  either  directly  or  indirectly  engaged  with  those  who 
had  just  robbed  us  ;  but  his  appearance  at  this  conjuncture 
was  both  sudden  and  singular. 

The  tragedy  over,  a  farce  succeeded,  which  lasted  until 
daylight.  Many  carts  and  wagons  that  were  passing  on 
the  road  came  to  a  halt  about  us ;  but  we  could  not  pro- 
ceed in  our  journey,  nor  could  the  bleeding  guides  be  re- 
moved from  the  road,  until  the  alcalde  of  the  nearest  town 
should  appear  and  take  cognizance  of  the  outrage.  He 
came  at  length;  a  fat  little  man,  with  a  red  cockade  in  his 
hat,  in  token  of  the  loyalty  which  had  doubtless  procured 
him  his  office.  He  commenced  examining  the  scene  of 
bloodshed  with  an  air  of  professional  indifference,  which 
showed  that  this  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  been  called 
from  bed  on  such  an  occasion.  He  put  his  hand  into  the 
puddle  of  blood  beside  the  mayoral,  and  gave  the  stone  with 
which  his  head  had  been  battered  in  care  to  one  of  his  at- 
tendants. This  done,  one  of  the  carts  which  had  halted  near 


80  A.  YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

us  was  put  in  requisition  to  carry  off  the  poor  fellows,  who 
had  now  lain  rolling  and  weltering  in  the  dust  for  more  than 
two  hours.  There  was  some  difficulty  in  getting  the  people 
who  stood  by  to  lift  the  bodies  into  the  cart,  and  we  were 
ourselves  obliged  to  perform  the  task.  I  afterward  learned 
that  in  Spain  a  person  found  near  the  body  of  a  murdered 
man  is  subject  to  detention  and  imprisonment,  either  as  a 
witness,  or  as  one  suspected  of  the  crime  ;  and  it  is  owing 
to  this  singular  fact  that  Spaniards,  instead  of  hurrying  to 
lend  succour,  avoid  a  murdered  man  as  they  would  avoid  a 
murderer.  Indeed,  it  may  be  doubted  whether,  in  Spain,  the 
law  be  not  more  dreaded  by  the  peaceful  inhabitant,  than 
the  very  robbers  and  murderers  from  whom  it  should  pro- 
tect him.  When  a  murder  has  been  committed  in  a  house, 
the  first  step  of  justice  is  to  seize  not  only  all  the  occu- 
pants, but  to  carry  off  whatever  furniture  it  may  contain, 
until  nothing  but  the  walls  be  left ;  hence  it  is  that  now,  as 
in  the  time  of  Gil  Bias,  the  word  "  Justicia,"  which  should 
inspire  the  honest  with  confidence,  is  never  pronounced 
without  a  shudder. 

These  painful  scenes  at  length  had  an  end,  and  the  cart 
into  which  the  guides  had  been  placed  returned  slowly  to- 
wards Amposta.  Before  it  drove  away,  the  mayoral  show- 
ed symptoms  of  returning  sensibility  ;  but  Pepe  seemed  in 
his  last  agony.  Two  soldiers  of  the  resguardo  took  their 
places  to  conduct  the  diligence  ;  and  when  the  rope  which 
the  robbers  had  stretched  across  the  road  from  tree  to  tree 
had  been  removed,  the  mules  were  again  set  in  motion, 
hurrying  from  the  scene  of  disaster  as  though  they  had 
been  sensible  of  its  horrors.  The  day  had  now  completely 
dawned,  and  the  sun,  rising  in  a  cloudless  sky,  shone 
abroad  upon  a  fertile  country  and  the  peaceful  scenes  of 
cultivation.  There  was  little,  however,  in  the  change,  to 
inspire  cheerfulness  or  consolation ;  for,  if  nature  looked  so 
fair,  man  sank  in  the  comparison. 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  81 

The  first  place  we  came  to  was  San  Carlos  ;  one  of  the 
new  villages  established  by  the  patriotic  Olavide.  We 
halted  in  the  public  place,  which  had  the  form  of  an  am- 
phitheatre, and  were  soon  surrounded  by  all  the  village 
worthies,  to  hear  once  and  again  from  the  loquacious  stu- 
dents the  story  of  our  misfortunes.  It  was,  however,  no 
novelty  to  them ;  and  when  they  had  seen  us  entering 
the  town,  driven  by  the  cut-throat  resguardo,  holding 
muskets  in  their  hands  instead  of  whips,  they  were  all, 
doubtless,  as  certain  of  what  had  happened  as  when  in  pos- 
session of  the  details.  The  alcalde  of  San  Carlos  came 
forth  with  especial  consequence  to  receive  official  informa- 
tion of  the  outrage ;  then  consulting  with  the  rusty  com- 
mandant of  a  few  ragged  soldiers  who  composed  the  garri- 
son, part  of  them  were  sent  off  to  search  for  the  robbers, 
already  snug  in  bed,  perhaps,  in  Amposta,  and  part  were 
ordered  to  accompany  the  diligence  to  Vinaroz,  where  our 
mules  were  to  be  changed. 

Vinaroz  is  quite  a  large  town,  and,  as  we  entered  it,  the 
inhabitants  were  in  a  buzz  of  anxious  curiosity  at  the  unu- 
sual detention  of  the  diligence.  We  had  scarcely  stopped* 
ere  we  were  completely  hemmed  in  by  a  questioning  crowd ; 
so,  leaving  my  Catalan  companions  to  find  consolation  in 
imparting  their  sorrows,  I  pushed  my  way  through  groups 
of  half-naked  Valencians,  royalist  volunteers  of  most  unpre- 
possessing appearance,  and  greasy  monks  of  St.  Francis, 
until,  having  cleared  the  crowd  and  reached  the  courtyard,  I 
mounted  at  once  to  the  eating-room  of  the  posada.  Here 
were  parties  of  travellers  still  more  interested  in  the  story  of 
our  misfortune  than  those  below,  who  had  merely  an  idle  cu- 
riosity to  gratify.  Two  Catalan  gentlemen,  who  were  trav- 
elling from  Madrid  to  Barcelona  in  their  own  carriage, 
cross-questioned  me  as  to  the  dangers  that  lay  in  the  road 
before  them,  and  in  return  for  the  consolation  I  imparted, 
told  me  that  the  same  thing  might  happen  to  me  any  day 
D  3 


82  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

V 

in  Spain ;  that  in  La  Mancha  the  robbers  no  longer  skulked 
among  the  trees  and  bushes,  like  snakes,  but  patrolled  the 
country  on  horseback,  and  at  a  gallop  ;  that  hitherto  I  had 
passed  along  the  seacoast,  where  the  country  was  well 
cultivated  and  populous,  and  the  inns  good ;  but  that  to- 
wards Madrid  I  should  find  a  naked  plain, destitute  of  trees, 
of  water,  of  houses,  and  of  cultivation,  with  inns  still  more 
miserable  than  the  poverty  of  the  country  justified ;  and 
learning  at  last  that  no  motive  of  business  or  necessity  had 
brought  me  into  Spain,  they  wondered  that  I  should  have 
left  the  kind  looks  and  words,  the  comforts  and  security, 
which  meet  the  stranger  in  France,  to  roam  over  a  coun- 
try which  they  frankly  owned  was  fast  relapsing  into  bar- 
barity. I  half  wondered  at  myself,  and,  dreading  further 
discouragement  from  these  sorry  comforters,  abandoned 
their  society,  to  see  about  getting  something  to  eat ;  for,  in 
consequence  of  the  detention  we  everywhere  met  with,  it 
would  be  three  in  the  afternoon  before  we  could  reach 
Torre  Blanca,  the  usual  stopping-place  of  the  diligence. 
There  was  fish  frying  in  some  part  of  the  house,  and  now, 
"as  I  scented  my  way  to  the  kitchen,  I  thought  that  there 
was  still  a  consolation. 

The  kitchen  of  the  posada  at  Vinaroz  offered  a  scene  of 
unusual  confusion.  The  hostess  was  no  other  than  the 
mother  of  Pepe,  a  very  decent-looking  Catalan  woman,  who, 
I  understood,  had  been  sent  there  the  year  before  by  the 
diligence-company,  which  is  concerned  in  all  the  inns  at 
which  their  coaches  stop  throughout  the  line.  She  had  al- 
ready been  told  of  the  probable  fate  of  her  son,  and  was 
preparing  to  set  off  for  Amposta  in  the  deepest  affliction ; 
and  yet  her  sorrow,  though  evidently  real,  was  singularly 
combined  with  an  attention  to  her  habitual  household  cares. 
The  unusual  demand  for  breakfast  by  fourteen  hungry  pas- 
sengers had  created  some  little  confusion  ;  and  the  poor 
woman,  instead  of  leaving  these  matters  to  take  care  of 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

themselves,  felt  the  force  of  habit,  and  was  issuing  a  vari- 
ety of  orders  to  her  assistant ;  nor  was  she  unmindful  of  her 
appearance,  but  had  already  changed  her  frock  and  stock- 
ings, and  thrown  on  her  mantilla,  preparatory  to  departure. 
It  was,  indeed,  a  singular  and  piteous  sight,  to  see  the  poor 
perplexed  woman  changing  some  fish  that  was  frying,  lest 
it  should  be  burnt  on  one  side,  adjusting  and  repinning 
her  mantilla,  and  sobbing  and  crying  all  in  the  same  breath. 
When  the  man  came,  however,  to  say  that  the  mule  was  in 
readiness,  every  thing  was  forgotten  but  the  feelings  of  the 
mother,  and  she  hurried  off  in  deep  and  unsuppressed  af- 
fliction. 

So  long  as  the  daylight  lasted,  our  road  continued  to  fol- 
low the  general  line  of  the  coast,  and  passed  through  a 
country  of  vines  and  olives,  which,  by  its  fertility  and  la- 
boured cultivation,  began  already  to  indicate  the  fair  king- 
dom of  Valencia,  the  garden  of  Spain,  so  renowned  through- 
out all  Europe.  The  season,  though  much  later  than  in 
Catalonia,  and  still  more  so  than  in  Provence,  was  never- 
theless the  season  of  decaying  cultivation,  and  nature  was 
beginning  to  put  on  a  graver  dress.  There  was  enough  in 
this  and  in  the  events  of  the  past  night  to  promote  melan- 
choly, had  other  causes  been  wanting ;  but  the  whole  road 
was  skirted  with  stone  crosses,  that  had  been  raised  oppo- 
site to  as  many  scenes  of  robbery  and  assassination.  They 
were  rudely  fashioned  from  blocks  of  stone,  with  a  short  in- 
scription cut  on  each  of  "  aqui  mataron  a  Fulano,"  here  they 
killed  Anthony  or  Francis,  on  such  a  day  of  the  year ;  and 
almost  every  one  had  a  stone  upon  it  in  a  hollow  which  had 
been  gradually  worn  there.  This  usage,  which  is  not  pe- 
culiar to  Spain,  is  variously  accounted  for ;  some  say  that 
it  originates  in  a  desire  to  cover  the  ashes  of  the  dead  ;  but 
such  cannot  be  the  cause  here,  since  the  bodies  of  the  peo- 
ple thus  murdered  are  not  buried  by  the  road-side,  but  in 
the  campo  santo  of  a  neighbouring  village.  It  is  also  as- 


84  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

serted  that  a  superstitious  feeling  leads  to  the  placing  of  a 
stone  in  this  manner,  as  an  evidence  of  detestation  towards 
the  murderer.  Be  it  as  it  may,  the  continual  occurrence  of 
these  crosses,  placed  singly  or  in  groups  of  two  or  three 
along  the  road  to  Valencia,  seemed  to  me  to  corroborate 
that  character  for  perfidy  which  the  Valencians  bear 
throughout  Spain.  It  furnished  a  well-filled  index  of 
treachery  and  murder,  of  avarice,  revenge,  and  all  those 
darker  passions  which  degrade  our  nature.  Many  of  the 
crosses  were  very  old;  others  bore  date  in  the  last  cen- 
tury :  many  denoted  the  murderous  struggle  for  independ- 
ence in  later  times,  while  a  still  greater  number  had  been 
erected  in  the  turbulent  period  of  the  Constitution,  and  bore 
testimony  to  the  fury  of  religious  and  political  fanaticism. 
As  we  passed  rapidly  along,  I  glanced  with  a  feverish 
interest  at  each,  while  my  fancy,  taking  the  brief  inscrip- 
tion as  a  text,  and  calling  up  the  recollections  of  the  night 
before,  endeavoured  to  furnish  forth  the  story  of  disaster. 

At  Torre  Blanca,  as  at  every  place  we  came  to  during 
the  remainder  of  the  journey,  there  was  a  most  annoying 
scene,  caused  by  the  garrulity  of  the  students,  and  the  curi- 
osity of  the  gossiping  portion  of  the  inhabitants.  Acting 
upon  the  principle  of  shutting  the  stable-door  after  the  steed 
was  stolen,  the  military  commandant  of  the  town  ordered 
four  ill-fed  dragoons  to  mount  on  as  many  worse  fed  horses, 
and  accompany  us  to  Villareal.  Though  the  number  of 
these  soldiers  was  so  limited,  there  was  as  great  a  variety 
in  their  caps  and  uniforms  as  though  they  had  belonged  to 
different  corps.  Some  had  boots  with  spurs  on  the  heels, 
others  laced  shoes  with  a  spur  on  the  right  foot,  and,  instead 
of  snug  valises  of  leather,  they  had  old  canvass  saddle- 
bags tied  to  their  saddles.  Though  their  accoutrements 
were  so  defective,  they  made  up  in  long  black  mustaches, 
and  eyes  of  fire,  that  were  constantly  on  the  look-out  for 
enemies ;  and  when  there  were  any  objects  of  suspicious 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  85 

appearance  in  the  road  before  us,  they  would  prepare  their 
carbines,  and,  kicking  their  jaded  beasts  into  a  gallop,  hurry 
forward  in  a  way  that  showed  that  good  looks  were  the 
least  of  their  qualifications. 

At  Villareal  we  were  beset  as  before ;  but  an  excellent 
supper,  served  with  neatness,  furnished  a  solace  to  our 
party,  which  by  this  time  had  nearly  emptied  itself  of  its 
grief.  At  eleven  in  the  night  we  once  more  set  forward, 
with  an  escort  of  four  foot-soldiers ;  for  there  were  no 
dragoons  at  Villareal  to  relieve  those  who  had  come  with 
us  from  Torre  Blanca.  These  fellows  belonged  to  the  corps 
of  Provincials,  a  species  of  draughted  militia,  furnished  as 
a  quota  by  each  province.  They  were  miserably  accou- 
tred, and,  instead  of  shoes,  wore  the  straw  sandal  of  Cata- 
lonia and  Valencia.  Few  soldiers,  however,  could  have 
matched  them  on  a  march ;  for  as  there  was  only  room  for 
one  of  them  on  the  bench  of  the  mayoral,  the  remaining 
three  were  obliged  to  run  constantly  beside  us,  loaded  as 
they  were  with  muskets  and  cartouch-boxes.  In  this  way 
they  performed  the  twenty-three  miles  that  lie  between 
Villareal  and  Murviedro,  always  keeping  pace  with  the 
rapid  motion  of  the  diligence. 

The  inconsiderable  town  of  Murviedro,  in  which  we  paus- 
ed towards  daylight  for  a  change  of  mules,  was  no  other  than 
the  ancient  Saguntum,  once  so  flourishing  and  celebrated, 
and  whose  cruel  destruction  by  Hannibal  gave  rise  to  the 
second  Punic  war.  Saguntum  is  said  to  have  been  founded 
about  two  centuries  before  the  fall  of  Troy,  by  Greeks,  who 
came  with  an  immense  fleet  from  Zante  in  the  Ionian  Sea. 
These,  seeking  to  have  something  in  their  new  home  to  re- 
mind them  of  the  older  and  dearer  one  which  they  had  left, 
called  their  colony  Zaynthus,  which  afterward  was  changed 
into  Saguntum. 

We  left  Murviedro  as  the  day  was  dawning,  passing  con- 
stantly through  a  fertile  and  highly-cultivated  country. 

8 


86  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

Shortly  after  leaving  the  town  and  getting  upon  the  open 
road,  I  noticed  a  young  man,  with  his  manta  hanging  from 
his  shoulder,  with  something  in  it  that  seemed  to  be  seed  or 
grain,  and  who  ran  constantly  at  the  side  of  the  diligence. 
I  watched  him  with  some  curiosity ;  sometimes  he  would 
be  before  us,  and  then,  when  our  guides  used  their  whips,  he 
would  get  behind,  when  I  supposed  that  he  had  stopped  ;  but 
presently  he  would  overtake  us  again,  first  his  shadow,  and 
then  his  head  and  lank  hair  enveloped  in  a  red  handkerchief, 
and  with  a  step  or  two  more  his  whole  person  would  ap- 
pear, manta,  bragas,  naked  legs,  and  sandals.  This  did  not 
last  for  a  short  time  merely,  but  during  the  whole  distance 
of  fifteen  miles  to  Valencia,  for  we  only  lost  sight  of  him, 
finally,  in  the  immediate  environs  of  the  city.  I  was  not  a 
little  curious  to  learn  the  meaning  of  this  singular  proceed- 
ing, and  therefore  asked  our  new  mayoral  what  made  the 
fellow  run  beside  the  diligence.  "  Quien  sabe  ?"  says  he  ; 
and  then,  after  a  pause,  "  Va  a  Valencia  y  lleva  priesa. — 
Who  knows  1  He  is  going  to  Valencia,  and  is  in  a  hurry." 

At  the  distance  of  three  miles  from  Valencia  we  came  to 
the  extensive  convent  of  San  Miguel  de  los  Reyes.  This 
princely  establishment  owed  its  foundation  to  the  Duke  of 
Calabria,  who  was  captain-general  of  Valencia  about  the 
middle  of  the  sixteenth  century.  He  caused  this  convent  to 
be  built,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  to  receive  his  re- 
mains, and  made  a  provision  for  sixty  monks  of  Saint  Jerome, 
who,  in  return  for  their  fine  habitation,  warm  clothing,  and 
good  cheer,  were  bound  daily  to  say  a  mass  for  the  soul  of  the 
generous  duke.  It  is  not  a  little  curious,  and  indicative  of 
the  change  which  time  brings  about  in  the  manners  and  in- 
stitutions of  men,  that  the  pillars  and  arches  of  the  amphi- 
theatre at  Saguntum  should  have  been  torn  down,  to  fur- 
nish materials  for  the  construction  of  this  monkish  edifice. 

The  country  had  grown  more  and  more  populous  through- 
out our  morning's  drive,  and  as  we  drew  near  to  Valencia, 
the  villages  became  almost  continuous.  Nothing  can  be 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  87 

finer  than  the  northern  approach  to  this  city ;  domes  and 
towers  without  number  are  seen  gradually  to  emerge  from 
out  the  continuous  orchard  of  lemon,  orange,  fig,  pomegran- 
ate, and  mulberry,  which  extends  itself  over  fields,  laid  out 
in  kitchen-gardens,  and  thus  made  to  yield  a  double  tribute 
to  the  cultivator.  At  length,  after  passing  through  this 
grove,  the  source  at  once  of  usefulness  and  beauty,  we 
came  to  the  bank  of  a  wide  ravine,  bounded  on  both  sides 
by  strong  parapets  of  hewn  stone.  This  ravine  was  the 
bed  of  the  Guadalaviar,  and  is  evidently  formed  to  contain 
the  waters  of  a  powerful  stream ;  but,  when  I  saw  it,  a 
brook  could  with  difficulty  be  discovered,  trickling  along  a 
small  channel  which  it  had  made  for  itself  in  the  middle 
of  the  ravine.  The  remainder  was  covered  with  grass  of 
the  richest  verdure,  and  cropped  by  sheep  and  goats,  now 
wandering  fearlessly  over  the  soil,  which  in  the  rainy  sea- 
son is  covered  high  with  the  resistless  element.  The 
cause  of  this  disappearance  of  the  Guadalaviar  is,  that  its 
waters  are  diverted  throughout  the  whole  course  of  the 
stream,  for  the  purpose  of  irrigation.  We  may,  however, 
well  pardon  this  plunder,  in  consideration  of  the  plenty 
which  results  from  it ;  and  even  if  poetry  and  the  pictu- 
resque were  alone  worthy  of  attention,  the  loss  of  beauty 
which  the  Guadalaviar  thus  sustains,  is  far  more  than  re- 
quited by  the  verdure  which  it  imparts  to  so  large  a  portion 
of  the  plain  of  Valencia. 

The  bridges  over  this  ravine  were  five  in  number,  and 
their  stout  piers  and  massive  arches  gave  sufficient  indica- 
tion of  the  occasional  force  of  the  Guadalaviar.  The  one 
over  whose  noisy  pavement  we  were  now  rapidly  drawn, 
had  been  ornamented  by  the  spirit  of  devotion  with  a  rude 
ehrine,  dedicated  to  the  patron  saint  of  the  city.  At  its  south- 
ern extremity  was  a  time-worn  gate,  covered  with  antique 
ornaments  and  inscriptions,  through  which  we  now  entered 
into  Valencia — "  Valencia  the  Fair,  Valencia  of  the  Cid." 


88  A  YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

VALENCIA  AND    MADRID. 

Kingdom  of  Valencia — Past  History — Present  Condition — Departure  for 
Madrid — San  Felipe  and  Mogente — Central  Plateau  of  Spain — Change 
of  Climate  and  Costume — Almansa — El  Toboso — The  Windmills — The 
Spanish  Colonel — The  Inn  of  Quintanar — Ocana — Aranjuez — Madrid. 

THE  kingdom  of  Valencia  extends  itself  about  two  hun- 
dred miles  along  the  eastern  coast  of  Spain,  and  varies 
from  thirty  to  sixty  miles  in  breadth.  While  on  every  other 
side  it  is  bounded  by  Catalonia,  Arragon,  Cuenca,  and  Mur- 
cia,  on  the  east  the  Mediterranean  bathes  its  whole  extent, 
furnishing  its  inhabitants  with  an  abundant  supply  of  food, 
and  placing  them  in  ready  communication  with  the  whole 
world.  This  kingdom  is  one  of  the  most  wealthy  and  flour- 
ishing divisions  of  the  Spanish  monarchy,  and  numbers  a 
population  of  near  a  million  of  souls.  Towards  the  con- 
fines of  the  central  provinces  are  ranges  of  mountains, 
abounding  in  iron,  marble,  jasper,  and  other  valuable  min- 
erals ;  while  the  space  which  intervenes  between  these 
mountains  and  the  sea  forms  a  continuous  and  sloping 
plain,  like  the  Milanese,  watered  by  no  fewer  than  thirty- 
six  small  rivers,  which  take  their  rise  in  the  mountains  of 
the  interior,  and  flow  eastward  to  the  Mediterranean. 
$  The  more  elevated  parts  of  the  kingdom  consist  of  dry 
situations,  producing  figs,  wine,  and  olives,  and  of  watered 
fields,  either  level  by  nature,  or  rendered  so  by  art,  for  the 
convenience  of  irrigation,  forming  luxuriant  platforms,  cov- 
ered with  vegetation,  and  rising  above  each  other  in  ani- 
mated perspective,  like  the  ascending  grades  of  an  amphi- 


A   TEAR   IN    SPAIN.  89 

theatre.  These  produce  abundant  crops  of  hemp,  flax,  cot- 
ton, wheat,  rice,  Indian  corn,  algarroba  beans,  apples,  pears, 
peaches,  oranges,  lemons,  citrons,  pomegranates,  dates,  al- 
monds, besides  melons,  which  are  renowned  throughout 
Spain,  and  every  species  of  culinary  vegetable,  with  such 
an  infinity  of  mulberry-trees,  that  they  furnish  annually  a 
million  and  a  half  pounds  of  the  richest  silk.  In  addition 
to  these  natural  productions  of  Valencia,  the  industry  of  her 
inhabitants  enriches  commerce  with  a  variety  of  manufac- 
tured articles ;  such  as  brandy,  barilla,  paper,  crockery, 
fabrics  of  straw,  hemp,  flax,  and  especially  of  silk,  which 
may  be  considered  the  staple  of  the  country. 

Such  are  the  fertilizing  effects  of  the  system  of  irriga- 
tion universally  applied  in  Valencia,  that  the  mulberry-trees 
are  thrice  stripped  of  their  leaves,  and  the  meadows  of 
clover  and  luzerne  are  mown  eight  and  even  ten  times ; 
citrons  are  often  gathered  of  six  pounds,  and  bunches  of 
grapes  of  fourteen ;  wheat  sown  in  November  yields  thirty 
for  one  in  June ;  barley  in  October  produces  twenty  in 
May ;  rice  in  April  yields  forty  in  October  ;  and  Indian 
corn,  planted  as  a  second  crop,  gives  one  hundred  fold.  Be- 
sides these  there  are  intermediate  crops  of  vegetables ;  so 
that,  with  a  varied  choice  of  productions,  a  powerful  sun, 
and  the  fertilizing  aid  of  water,  the  farmer  may  here  real- 
ize two,  and  even  three  harvests  in  a  single  year.  It  re- 
sults from  this  important  use  of  irrigation,  that  the  value  of 
lands  in  Valencia  depends  entirely  on  the  facilities  of  pro- 
curing water.  The  right  to  the  use  of  every  stream  is  of 
course  nicely  defined  ;  and  when  the  fructifying  seasons  ar- 
rive, those  who  enjoy  water-privileges  sedulously  prepare 
their  fields,  open  their  sluices,  fill  the  ditches,  and  inundate 
the  whole,  even  to  vineyards  and  olive-orchards.  In  con- 
sequence of  this  system,  productions  are  multiplied  to  a 
wonderful  extent,  and  the  earth  continues  prolific  through- 
out the  year.  It  is,  however,  remarked  by  Bourgoanne, 
8* 


90  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

that  this  artificial  fertility  does  not  bestow  on  plants  the  sub- 
stance which  they  elsewhere  receive  from  nature  alone ; 
and  that  hence  the  aliments  in  Valencia  are  much  less  nour- 
ishing than  in  Castile.  Hence,  too,  the  deterioration,  which 
the  excessive  use  of  water  communicates  to  plants,  is  said 
likewise  to  extend  to  the  animals,  to  which  they  in  turn 
furnish  subsistence ;  a  fact  which  has  doubtless  author- 
ized the  Spanish  proverb,  "  En  Valencia,  la  carne  es  bier- 
ba ;  la  hierba,  agua  ;  los  hombres,  mugeres  ;  y  las  mugeres, 
nada !" 

Though  disposed  to  think  this  proverb  hyperbolical,  at 
least  so  far  as  it  relates  to  the  lovely  and  not  too  ethereal 
Valencianas,  it  proves,  if  nothing  else,  the  low  estimation 
which  the  people  of  Valencia  enjoy  throughout  Spain.  It 
is  well  known — we  may  learn  the  fact  even  from  novels  and 
romances — that  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries, 
when  it  was  customary  for  every  distinguished  personage 
to  have  his  hired  assassins  at  command,  they  were  almost 
all  natives  of  Valencia.  Even  their  dress  and  weapons  are 
described.  The  miscreant  went  forth,  enveloped  in  his 
cloak,  and  favoured  by  the  obscurity  of  night.  Having 
found  the  individual  proscribed  by  public  policy  or  personal 
hate,  he  would  steal  after  him  until  time  and  place  were 
propitious,  then,  raising  his  hand  from  beneath  its  conceal- 
ment, drive  the  murderous  weapon  which  it  grasped  deep 
into  the  back  of  his  unsuspecting  victim. 

Nor  is  the  climate  of  Valencia  unworthy  of  the  soil. 
The  mountains,  which  form  its  landward  barrier,  intercept 
the  cold  winds  of  the  interior,  while  the  genial  and  equal- 
ising influence  of  the  Mediterranean  tempers  alike  the 
summer  heats  and  the  cold  of  winter.  In  summer,  sudden 
showers  are  neither  unfrequent  nor  unwelcome  ;  but  in  tho 
intervals,  and  generally  throughout  the  year,  the  air  re- 
mains ever  pure,  pleasant,  and  healthful,  the  sky  ever  se- 
rene, and  the  whole  system  of  seasons  seems  lost  in  one 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  91 

continual  delicious  spring.  The  Cardinal  de  Retz,  whose 
blood  was  rather  warmer  than  became  his  office,  thus 
speaks  of  this  country  in  his  singular  memoirs : — "  The 
kingdom  of  Valencia  may  well  be  pronounced  not  only  the 
healthiest  country,  but  also  the  most  beautiful  garden,  in  the 
whole  world.  Lemon,  orange,  and  pomegranate-trees  form 
the  palisadoes  of  its  highways,  while  crystal  and  trans- 
parent rivulets  meander  in  trenches  beside  them.  The 
whole  plain  is  enamelled  with  an  endless  variety  of  flow- 
ers, which,  while  they  enchant  the  eye,  delight  the  smell 
with  the  most  grateful  odours."  Father  Mariana,  too,  who 
was  also  something  of  an  enthusiast,  assures  us  that,  in  the 
environs  of  the  city,  "  the  gardens  and  orchards,  mixing 
and  entangling  their  vegetation,  form  a  continuous  arbour, 
always  green  and  always  pleasant.  Such  is  the  beauty  of 
Valencia ! — Such  were  the  Elysian  fields  which  the  poets 
fancied !" 

In  the  midst  of  the  mingled  beauties  and  bounties  of  this 
favoured  plain  stands  the  city  of  Valencia,  upon  the  south 
bank  of  the  Guadalaviar,  at  whose  mouth  it  has  an  incon- 
siderable and  unsafe  harbour.  Though  known  in  the  time 
of  the  Romans  by  the  name  of  Valencia,  this  city  so  great- 
ly augmented  its  importance  under  the  Saracen  domina- 
tion, that  it  may  be  said  to  owe  its  origin  to  that  industrious 
people.  They  introduced  the  system  of  rural  economy 
which  has  converted  this  vast  plain  into  one  extensive  gar- 
den ;  andy  seeking  new  sources  of  wealth,  commenced  the 
culture  of  silk  before  it  was  known  in  Italy.  Nor  did  the 
sciences,  and  such  arts  as  are  tolerated  by  the  Koran,  fail 
to  keep  pace  with  the  progress  of  industry.  The  Valen- 
cians  became  celebrated  for  the  cultivation  of  letters,  and 
of  the  sixty  libraries  which  then  existed  in  Mahometan 
Spain,  at  a  time,  too,  when  books  were  scarcely  known  in 
the  rest  of  Europe,  that  of  Valencia  yielded  for  extent  and 
value  to  none  but  the  library  of  Cordova. 


92  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

But,  though  this  literary  and  scientific  superiority  of  the 
Valencians  may  have  sharpened  their  intellects  and  human* 
ized  their  hearts,  it  gave  them  but  little  advantage  in  the 
field  over  the  hungry  and  strong-handed  Spaniards,  who 
used  no  other  logic  than  the  sword,  and  knew  but  one 
way  of  signing  their  name — upon  the  visage  of  an  enemy. 
As  the  misfortune  of  Valencia  would  have  it,  towards  the 
close  of  the  eleventh  century,  one  Rodrigo  diaz  de  Bivar, 
an  illustrious  outlaw  whom  the  Saracens  had  surnamed  the 
Cid,  or  Lord,  was  banished  from  Castile  for  having  broken 
the  peace  with  the  King  of  Toledo  by  a  predatory  excur- 
sion into  his  territories.  Collecting  a  party  of  hidalgos, 
equally  reckless  with  himself,  he  made  war  on  many  petty 
kings  among  the  infidels,  assisting  one  against  another, 
until  he  had  conquered  several  and  rendered  them  his  vas- 
sals. He  at  length  became  an  auxiliary  in  a  war  between 
two  rival  competitors  for  the  crown  of  Valencia  ;  and,  hav- 
ing conquered  the  one  and  set  aside  the  other,  took  pos- 
session of  the  subject  of  contention.  In  order  to  conciliate 
the  good-will  of  the  king  his  master,  the  Cid  sent  him  a 
present  of  two  hundred  beautiful  horses,  richly  caparisoned 
after  the  fashion  of  the  Moors,  and  with  as  many  cimeters 
hanging  at  the  saddlebows,  beseeching  him  at  the  same 
time  to  allow  his  wife  and  daughters  to  come  from  their 
convent  in  Cardena.  This  being  granted,  the  Cid  estab- 
lished himself  in  Valencia,  and,  notwithstanding  several 
sieges  on  the  part  of  the  dispossessed  Moors,  he  maintain- 
ed the  conquest  until  the  day  of  his  death.  This  took 
place  at  a  moment  when  the  African  prince  Bekir  was  be- 
fore the  city  with  a  strong  force,  and  resistance  being  now 
hopeless,  it  was  determined  to  abandon  every  thing  and  re- 
turn to  Castile.  The  body  of  the  Cid  was  placed  on  a  litter 
with  his  wife,  the  proud-spirited  Ximena,  and  the  whole 
garrison,  forming  in  the  funeral  procession,  ready  to  defend 
him  who  hitherto  had  needed  no  other  safeguard  but  his 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  93 

own  good  arm,  thus  marched  forth  from  Valencia.  The 
Moors,  being  ignorant  of  what  had  happened,  fled  before 
the  Cid,  and  opened  a  passage  through  which  the  mourn- 
ers were  allowed  to  return  to  their  own  country.  The  old 
romances,  which  have  connected  so  many  fictions  with  the 
real  achievements  of  this  wonderful  man,  even  tell  us  that 
the  dead  champion  was  mounted  upon  his  good  steed  Ba- 
bieca,  with  his  terrible  sword  Colada  in  his,  right  hand, 
and  his  long  black  beard  hanging  down  upon  his  burnished 
cuiras. 

Valencia  was  thus  restored  to  the  dominion  of  the  Moors, 
from  which  it  had  been  prematurely  wrested  by  the  valour 
of  the  Cid.  Its  day,  however,  of  final  conquest  at  length 
arrived.  In  1238,  just  after  the  taking  of  Cordova  by  Saint 
Ferdinand,  King  James  of  Arragon  determined  to  lay  siege 
to  Valencia.  The  number  of  his  troops  being  no  more 
than  a  thousand  foot  and  half  as  many  horse,  his  followers 
became  discouraged ;  but  the  king  having  taken  a  solemn 
oath  that  he  would  not  return  without  being  master  of  Va- 
lencia, they  became  inspired  with  his  resolution.  Having 
crossed  the  Guadalaviar,  he  intrenched  himself  between 
the  walls  of  the  city  and  the  neighbouring  sea,  and  was 
soon  joined  by  soldiers  drawn  from  all  quarters  to  share  in 
the  glory  of  the  siege  and  the  spoils  of  the  city.  Among 
these  adventurers  was  a  body  of  Frenchmen  under  the 
command  of  the  good  Bishop  of  Narbonne.  If  we  are  as- 
tonished that  so  small  a  force  as  fifteen  hundred  men 
should  have  laid  siege  to  a  city  like  Valencia,  let  us  re- 
member that  the  tide  of  victory  was  rolling  back ;  let  us 
go  back  to  the  period  of  the  conquest,  and  we  shall  see 
Cordova  besieged  and  taken  at  a  gallop  by  six  hundred 
cavaliers  of  Arabia. 

The  army  of  Don  Jayme,  thus  re-enforced  from  all  quar- 
ters, amounted  at  length  to  seventy  thousand  soldiers  ;  and 
the  people  of  Valencia,  being  disappointed  in  the  succour 


94  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

which  they  had  expected  from  the  King  of  Tunez,  began  to 
think  of  a  surrender,  for  famine  had  already  commenced  its 
ravages  among  them.  After  much  debating  about  the 
terms,  the  capitulation  was  at  length  signed.  It  was 
agreed  that  the  city  of  Valencia  should  be  given  up  to  Don 
Jayme,  that  its  inhabitants  should  be  allowed  to  go  unmo- 
lested to  Dena,  and  that  each  might  carry  away  with  him 
as  much  gold,  silver,  and  precious  commodities  as  he  could 
bear  upon  his  person. 

The  fatal  day  at  length  arrived  which  was  to  separate 
for  ever  the  inhabitants  of  Valencia  from  the  fair  city  so 
deeply  endeared  to  them.  The  mournful  procession  of  de- 
jected men,  heart-sick  women,  and  helpless  children,  to 
the  number  of  fifty  thousand,  was  seen  to  go  forth  from  the 
south  gate  of  the  city,  which  opened  towards  the  sacred 
promontory  of  Dena.  The  priests  and  soldiers  of  the 
Christian  army  formed  a  lane  without  the  gate,  through 
which  the  unhappy  exiles  tottered  forth,  assailed  by  the  re- 
vilings  of  their  persecutors,  and  bending  not  less  under  the 
burden  which  each  bore,  than  under  the  weight  of  their 
common  misfortune.  When  all  had  thus  passed  onward, 
the  Christians  made  their  solemn  entry  into  the  city ;  the 
mosques  were  purified  and  consecrated ;  a  bishop  installed 
into  the  long  vacant  see,  and  thanksgivings  forthwith  offer- 
ed to  Him  in  whose  name  and  for  whose  glory  the  con- 
quest had  been  effected.  The  neighbouring  country,  which 
the  labour  of  the  exiled  cultivators  had  brought  to  fertility, 
was  duly  divided  between  the  prelates,  military  orders,  and 
nobles,  who  had  taken  part  in  the  siege,  not  forgetting  such 
convents  as  had  lent  the  more  passive  assistance  of  their 
prayers.  From  Gerona,  Tortosa,  and  Tarragona,  people 
were  invited  to  come  and  fill  the  vacancy  in  the  industrious 
classes  occasioned  by  the  sudden  departure  of  so  many 
citizens. 

It  must  have  required  centuries  for  Valencia  to  recover 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  95 

from  the  effects  of  this  severe  blow  to  her  prosperity  ;  and 
the  vicious  division  of  property  must  have  been,  as  it  still 
is,  a  constant  check  to  every  species  of  melioration.  Not- 
withstanding all  these  disadvantages,  its  growth  had  grad- 
ually continued  until  the  beginning  of  the  present  century, 
when  the  population  amounted  to  one  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  souls,  twenty  thousand  of  whom  were  engaged  in 
silk  manufactories,  which  annually  consumed  near  a  mill- 
ion pounds  of  the  raw  material.  The  war  of  independence, 
and  the  political  struggles  which  followed,  checked  the 
prosperity  of  Valencia,  the  city  itself  having  been  twice  be- 
sieged and  bombarded  by  the  French ;  but  it  nevertheless 
continues  to  be  the  second  city  in  Spain,  and  may  even 
dispute  with  the  capital  for  superiority  in  wealth  and  pop- 
ulation. 

The  climate  of  Valencia  has  often  been  compared  to  that 
of  Greece,  and  the  genius  of  its  inhabitants  is  said  to  be 
similar  to  that  which  once  characterized  the  natives  of  that 
famous  country  ;  a  taste  for  poetry  prevails  among  the  peo- 
ple, and  even  improvisatori  are  not  unknown.  Letters, 
which  under  the  Moors  attained  an  advancement  in 'Valen- 
cia to  which  the  age  was  a  stranger,  have  likewise  flourish- 
ed here  in  modern  times.  Until  lately,  more  books  were 
annually  printed  in  Valencia  than  in  any  other  city  in  Spain  ; 
and  several  works  which  1  have  seen,  that  were  printed 
towards  the  close  of  the  last  century,  can  scarcely  be  sur- 
passed for  embellishment  and  execution.  Printing,  how- 
ever, has  declined  here  since  the  French  revolution ;  no 
new  works  are  now  allowed  to  go  to  the  press  except  books 
on  devotion,  and  French  novels  translated  into  Castilian ; 
and  even  the  old  works  which  during  centuries  have  formed 
the  pride  of  Spanish  literature,  are  now  well  searched  by 
ghostly  censors,  and  gleaned  of  their  most  pithy  sentences, 
before  they  can  be  republished.  In  this  way,  the  book- 
trade  in  Spain  is  now  reduced  to  the  buying  and  selling  of 


96  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

second-hand  works  ;  and  I  was  not  a  little  surprised  in  Va- 
lencia, on  going  into  several  bookshops,  to  find  myself  sur- 
rounded by  a  venerable  collection  of  well-worn  tomes, 
bound  in  parchment,  and  tied  with  strings,  or  fastened  by 
huge  clasps  of.  brass. 

The  fine  arts  have  always  been  cultivated  with  great  care 
in  Valencia  ;  the  style  of  building,  too,  is  generally  good, 
and  the  Gothic  taste,  which  has  left  many  monuments  in 
Barcelona,  can  no  longer  be  traced  here.  The  most  re- 
markable of  its  buildings  is  the  cathedral,  of  vast  extent  and 
various  construction,  but  very  noble  and  imposing  within. 
The  city  possesses  a  university,  which  is  much  esteemed 
in  Spain,  a  gratuitous  academy  of  fine  arts,  two  public 
libraries,  a  seminary  for  the  education  of  noble  youths,  a 
general  hospital,  and  a  commercial  exchange.  The  theatre 
of  Valencia  is  very  inferior  to  that  of  Barcelona,  the  house 
itself  being  small  and  miserably  arranged,  while  the  thread- 
bare and  ill-fed  appearance  of  the  players  forms  the  best 
apology  for  their  indifferent  performance. 

The  principal  dwelling-houses  of  Valencia  are  built  in  a 
quadrangular  form,  with  a  large  gateway  in  front,  and  a 
square  court  in  the  centre  ;  but  the  greater  number  have  a 
narrow  door  and  staircase  at  one  side,  as  with  us.  In  ad- 
dition to  casements  which  open  inwards  like  folding-doors, 
the  windows  near  the  ground  have  cages  of  iron,  composed 
of  perpendicular  bars  called  "rejas,"  and  to  which  the 
French  give  the  more  appropriate  name  of  "jalousies." 
These  serve  to  prevent  the  entrance  of  a  thief  or  a  lover, 
or  the  evasion  of  a  wife.  The  windoAvs  of  the  upper  sto- 
ries descend  nearly  from  the  ceiling  to  the  floor,  and  open 
on  balconies  of  iron,  which  are  decorated  with  shrubbery 
and  flowers,  and  thronged  by  both  sexes  whenever  any  re- 
ligious or  military  procession  is  passing,  and  by  the  females 
at  all  seasons  when  not  otherwise  employed.  The  houses 
are  constructed  of  stones  of  every  shape  and  size,  coated 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  97 

with  cement  and  whitewashed ;  when  animated  by  gay 
groups  of  well-dressed  people  standing  in  the  balconies, 
they  make  a  very  good  appearance. 

The  streets  of  Valencia  are  very  crooked,  and  so  narrow 
that  many  of  them  are  impassable  for  carriages.  From  this 
reason,  and  the  treacherous  character  of  the  people,  there  is 
great  risk  of  being  robbed  in  the  night,  and  I  was  repeatedly 
cautioned  at  my  hotel  to  be  on  my  guard,  and  keep  to  the 
principal  streets.  The  streets  are  not  paved,  for  the  dry- 
ness  of  the  climate  renders  it  unnecessary  ;  hence  they  are 
very  dusty,  and  the  inhabitants  resort  for  exercise  to  the 
paseos,  or  public  walks,  of  which  there  are  several,  beauti- 
fully planted  and  furnished  with  benches,  along  the  banks 
of  the  Guadalaviar,  and  in  the  direction  of  the  seaport  at 
the  mouth  of  the  river.  The  most  beautiful  of  all  is  the 
Glorieta,  a  very  small  square  contiguous  to  the  custom- 
house. It  is  enclosed  by  a  railing,  and  planted  with  the 
trees  most  grateful  to  the  eye  and  smell,  among  which  the 
orange,  the  lemon,  and  the  still  fairer  pomegranate  are  most 
conspicuous.  The  ground  is  covered  with  shrubs  and  flow- 
ers, native  and  exotic,  whose  thrifty  appearance  attests  most 
strongly  the  genial  influence  of  the  climate.  These  form 
hedges  to  the  various  walks,  which  intersect  each  other,  and 
are  ornamented  at  their  angles  with  sparkling  and  gushing 
fountains.  There  is  a  principal  alley,  along  which  those 
who  court  observation  make  repeated  turns ;  while  others 
sit  and  review  them  upon  stone  benches  that  skirt  the  walks, 
or  on  rush  chairs  hired  out  by  a  provident  old  woman. 
There  are  more  secluded  alleys  on  each  side  for  those 
modest  groups  and  whispering  couples  who  prefer  privacy 
and  the  shade.  Whether  the  peasants  and  labouring 
classes  are  excluded  from  the  Glorieta,  or  are  unwilling  to 
mingle  with  people  so  much  richer  and  better  dressed  than 
themselves,  there  were  none  of  them  to  be  seen,  except,  in- 
deed, a  solitary  bare-legged  Valencian,  in  bragas,  who  car- 
VOL.  L— E  9 


98  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

ried  about  a  lighted  match,  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
smokers.  Outside  of  the  Glorieta  were  bodies  of  royalist 
volunteers  or  regular  troops,  with  bands  of  music,  passing 
in  different  directions,  intermingled  with  crowds  of  pedes- 
trians and  horsemen  ;  and  antique  carriages  on  four  wheels, 
or  light  tartanas,  in  attendance  on  their  owners.  The  tar- 
tana,  so  generally  in  use  at  Valencia,  is  a  small  cart,  cov- 
ered with  a  canvass  top,  and  drawn  by  a  single  horse  or 
mule,  whose  harness  is  well  studded  with  brass  tacks,  and 
hung  with  small  bells  of  the  same  metal.  The  entrance  is 
at  the  back,  and  the  seats  are  along  each  side  ;  the  interior 
of  the  tartana  is  adorned  with  curtains  of  silk,  while 
without  it  is  painted  with  a  variety  of  gay  colours,  which, 
like  the  grotesque  paintings  upon  the  outer  walls  of  the 
churches,  long  preserve  their  brilliancy  in  this  dry  climate. 
As  it  has  no  springs,  it  would  be  but  a  comfortless  vehicle 
in  a  paved  city,  but  it  moves  noiselessly  and  without  a  jar 
over  the  level  streets  of  Valencia. 

The  Glorieta  was  laid  out  and  planted  by  a  late  captain- 
general,  a  testy  and  high-handed  don,  who  punished  delin- 
quents, hung  up  robbers,  and  did  on  the  spot  whatever 
seemed  right  or  pleasant  to  him ;  in  short,  he  was  just  the 
man  to  govern  the  Spaniards  of  the  present  generation. 
He  took  the  land  of  the  present  Glorieta  from  a  convent  or 
other  useless  establishment,  and  converted  it  into  the  de- 
lightful little  place  which  now  adds  so  greatly  to  the 
amusement  of  the  Valencians.  When  the  Constitution 
came,  however,  and  the  captain-general  exchanged  his  pal- 
ace for  a  prison,  the  uncurbed  populace  wreaked  their  fury 
upon  every  thing  connected  with  the  memory  of  the  man 
who  had  restrained  them,  and  would  even  have  restored 
the  Glorieta  to  its  original  state  by  cutting  down  the  trees 
and  tearing  up  the  shrubbery,  had  they  not  been  opposed  by 
others  whose  ideas  of  liberty  were  less  fanatical.  O'Reilly, 
the  present  captain-general  of  Valencia,  is  likewise  a  tyrant, 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  99 

but  of  a  much  worse  kind  than  the  one  of  whom  we  have 
been  speaking ;  for  he  is  a  tyrant  at  second-hand,  and  to 
suit  the  views  of  his  employers.  Notwithstanding  his  se- 
verity towards  the  persecuted  Liberals,  he  is  flexible  enough 
in  the  hands  of  the  priests,  who  very  lately  made  a  suc- 
cessful opposition  to  his  authority.  They  had  the  audacity, 
a  few  months  before  I  passed  through  Valencia,  to  take  a 
poor  Jew  who  had  avowed  his  opinions,  and  hang  him  up 
publicly,  in  defiance  of  the  injunction  of  the  civil  officers, 
and  even  of  O'Reilly  himself. 

The  interval  of  three  days  between  the  departures  of  the 
Barcelona  diligence  for  Madrid  having  at  length  passed  by, 
I  rose  early  on  the  morning  of  its  expected  arrival  to  hear 
what  had  been  the  fate  of  the  mayoral  and  Pepe,  whom  I 
had  last  seen  bleeding  and  groaning  in  a  cart  on  their  way 
to  Amposta.  The  mayoral  was  still  alive  three  days  after 
the  event,  when  the  diligence  stopped  at  Amposta  ;  but  his 
head  was  so  badly  fractured  as  to  render  recovery  doubtful. 
Poor  Pepe  breathed  his  last  at  ten  o'clock,  about  eight  hours 
after  our  attack,  and  long  before  his  widowed  mother  could 
have  arrived  to  close  the  eyes  of  her  child.  More  than  a 
month  elapsed  before  I  again  heard  any  thing  of  the  still 
surviving  mayoral,  or  of  the  men  who  had  committed  the 
violence  ;  for,  such  things  never  being  published  in  Spain, 
one  half  the  population  might  be  murdered  without  the  rest 
knowing  any  thing  of  it.  It  may,  however,  be  as  well  to 
repeat  here  what  I  at  length  learned  in  Madrid  from  a  Va- 
lencian  wagoner,  whom  I  questioned  on  the  subject.  The 
mayoral,  after  lingering  about  a  week,  shared  the  fate  of 
Pepe,  and  the  three  robbers  had  at  length  been  detected 
and  taken  into  custody.  One  of  them  was  a  native  of  Per- 
pignan,  son  to  a  man  who  had  formerly  kept  the  inn  where 
the  diligence  put  up  in  Amposta.  The  other  two  were  na- 
tives of  the  town,  and  all  were  acquaintances  of  Pepe  ; 
possibly  the  very  varlets  who  were  playing  at  cards  beneath 
E2 


100  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

our  window.  My  informant  could  not  tell  me  whether  the 
murderers  were  likely  to  suffer  for  their  crime.  The  fact 
of  one  of  them  being  a  stranger  rendered  it  probable  ;  but 
if  they  had  money  to  put  into  the  hands  of  an  escribano  or 
notary,  to  fee  him  and  the  judges  who  would  be  called  to 
decide  upon  the  case,  or  to  buy  an  escape,  or,  as  a  last  re- 
sort, if  they  could  procure  the  interposition  of  the  clergy, 
they  might  yet  go  unpunished.* 

The  diligence  was  to  leave  Valencia  at  noon  for  Madrid, 
and  finding,  when  I  had  repaired  to  it  and  stowed  my  lug- 
gage, that  there  was  yet  half  an  hour  of  idle  time  to  be  got 
rid  of,  I  wandered  to  the  cathedral  to  pass  once  more 
through  its  aisles,  and  then  ascended  to  the  top  of  the  an- 
tique tower  called  Miquelet,  to  take  a  farewell  look  at  Va- 
lencia and  its  environs.  The  belman  was  getting  ready  to 
ring  for  mid-day  mass  ;  and  I  therefore  found  the  tower-gate 
open,  and  a  person,  who  was  familiar  with  every  object  of 
the  landscape,  ready  to  answer  my  inquiries.  The  city 
upon  which  I  now  looked  down  gained  nothing  by  this 
change  of  position  ;  the  irregular  roofs  of  all  the  buildings, 
public  and  private,  were  covered  with  rude  tiles,  and  the 
streets,  now  seen  collectively  as  in  a  map,  shocked  the  eye 
by  their  want  of  regularity.  As  the  sight  gradually  extended 
its  circle,  it  took  in  objects  that  were  more  agreeable  ;  the 
verdant  Glorieta,  with  its  trees  and  fountains  ;  the  Gate  of 
the  Cid,  and  the  numerous  avenues  leading  to  the  capital ; 

*  That  one  at  least  of  them  escaped,  I  had  occasion  several  years  after 
to  discover,  through  the  son  and  aid-de-camp  of  Sir  William  Houston, 
Lieutenant-governor  of  Gibraltar,  and  who,  on  his  way  from  London  to  his 
post,  visited  in  Madrid  the  prison  in  which  the  miscreant  was  confined, 
and  heard  from  his  own  mouth  an  exulting  narration  of  the  part  which  he 
had  taken  in  this  horrible  atrocity.  In  the  years  that  had  intervened,  he 
had  built  up  for  himself  a  diabolical  reputation,  under  the  cognomen  of  "  El 
Gato,"  which  continued,  down  to  the  moment  of  his  execution,  to  consti- 
tute at  once  his  pride  and  consolation.  Such  is  poor  human  nature ! 
Tremble,  mortals,  as  you  approach  the  threshold  of  crime,  at  the  contem- 
plation of  that  to  which  the  first  ill-guided  step  may  lead  you ! 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  101 

the  five  bridges  of  the  Guadalaviar,  and  the  promenades 
which  skirt  its  banks.  These  were  enclosed  in  that  wide 
expanse  of  verdure,  interspersed  everywhere  with  villages 
and  farmhouses,  to  which  the  Spaniards  have  given  the 
glowing  name  of  Huerta  de  Valencia,  the  orchard  of  Valen- 
cia, whose  fertility  had  no  other  bounds  but  the  sea  and 
mountains  which  enclosed  it. 

By  the  time  I  had  regained  the  office  of  the  diligence, 
the  bells  of  the  cathedral  and  of  the  many  churches  and 
convents  of  Valencia  were  tolling  for  noon.  The  coach 
was  already  in  the  street,  and  the  superintendent,  waybill 
in  hand,  was  calling  over  the  names  of  the  passengers,  and 
assigning  to  each  his  seat  for  the  journey.  I  had  taken  a 
corner  of  the  cabriolet,  and  now  found  the  adjoining  one 
occupied  by  a  Spanish  officer,  a  colonel  of  chasseurs,  who 
had  a  pair  of  horse-pistols  in  the  coach  pocket  beside  him, 
with  his  sabre  clothed  in  buckskin,  and  standing  upright  in 
the  corner,  to  keep  sentry  over  them.  He  had  on  a  red 
jacket  worked  with  gold  lace,  over  which  was  an  ample 
cloak  of  blue,  lined  with  red  velvet,  and  on  his  heels  a  pair 
of  long  brass  spurs,  that  were  continually  incommoding  him 
during  the  journey.  His  schaiko  was  hung  up  overhead, 
and  replaced  by  a  light  bonnet  of  blue  cloth,  adorned  in 
front  with  a  gold  fleur-de-lis,  the  common  badge  of  the 
Bourbons.  He  had  a  fair  round  face  and  well-nurtured 
mustaches,  and  appeared  to  me  a  very  young  man  to  be 
a  colonel.  Indeed,  his  whole  appearance  indicated  more 
familiarity  with  the  drawing-room  than  with  the  stir  and 
strife  incidental  to  his  profession.  I  afterward  found  he 
was  a  conde  or  count,  and  having  thus  been  born  to  the 
military  life,  as  alone  worthy  of  his  rank,  he  had  gradually 
grown  into  a  grade  which  in  France  can  only  be  reached 
over  many  a  field  of  battle.  He  was,  however,  on  the 
whole,  a  very  agreeable  travelling  companion,  and  when  he 
was  not  engaged  with  a  musty  book  on  cavalry,  or  I  with 
9* 


102  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

my  map,  or  dictionary  and  grammar  of  the  language,  we 
gossiped  together  throughout  the  journey.  In  the  interior 
were  two  passengers,  besides  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the 
diligence,  a  wary  old  Catalan,  who  was  performing  a  tour 
of  observation  through  the  line  to  look  into  the  state  of  the 
teams,  of  the  inns  where  the  coach  stopped,  and  other  mat- 
ters relating  to  the  service  of  the  company.  He  carried 
with  him  a  small  blank-book,  bound  with  parchment,  and  a 
portable  inkhorn,  with  a  couple  of  superannuated  pens  in  it. 
These  materials  for  authorship  he  would  produce  every 
night  after  supper,  and  spreading  them  out  amid  the  wreck 
of  the  repast,  proceed  to  write  up  his  journal.  The  rotunda 
contained  one  solitary  occupant,  a  candidate  for  the  priest- 
hood, who  was  going  to  p^lsue  his  studies  in  Alcala,  being 
one  of  the  fast-talking  youths  who  had  shared  in  our  disas- 
ter near  the  Ebro. 

With  these  five  persons  for  travelling  companions,  and  a 
good-natured  Catalan,  called  Lorenzo,  for  mayoral,  we 
turned  our  backs  upon  Valencia,  and  took  our  course  to  the 
southwest,  in  the  direction  of  San  Felipe.  As  on  the  ap- 
proach to  the  city  from  the  other  side,  our  road  now  lay 
through  cultivated  and  well-watered  fields,  which  at  the 
same  time  were  planted  with  orchards  of  every  kind  of 
fruit,  and  especially  the  mulberry,  olive,  and  algarroba.  On 
the  left  we  passed  the  Albufera  of  Valencia,  a  fine  lake 
which  abounds  in  fish  and  water-fowl.  The  neighbouring 
country  is  entirely  laid  out  in  rice,  of  which  such  a  quanti- 
ty is  produced,  that  the  share  of  the  king,  who  claims  six- 
teen per  cent,  as  proprietor,  and  probably  receives  much 
less,  is  worth  annually  near  fifty  thousand  dollars.  This 
princely  estate  belonged,  during  the  short  reign  of  King 
Joseph,  to  Marshal  Suchet,  who  commanded  the  French 
forces  in  this  part  of  Spain,  and  was  almost  the  only  one 
of  his  countrymen  who  promoted  successfully  the  cause  of 
Napoleon,  and  was  at  the  same  time  able  to  win  the  affec- 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  103 

lions  of  the  Spaniards.  This  distinguished  general  lost  his 
estate  on  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons,  but  preserved  the 
title  of  Duke  of  Albufera,  which,  with  the  peerage  confer- 
red by  Louis  XVIII.,  has  lately  devolved  upon  his  son.  In 
the  afternoon  we  came  to  a  small  stream  which  flowed 
under  a  few  scattering  algarroba-trees,  whose  foliage,  as 
well  as  the  grass  that  grew  upon  its  banks,  seemed  to  catch 
new  verdure  from  the  fertilizing  element.  Here  a  party  of 
travellers  had  halted  to  make  a  rude  meal  upon  the  bread 
and  sausages  which  they  had  brought  with  them,  while 
their  mules  and  asses  were  likewise  refreshing  themselves 
along  the  margin  of  the  brook. 

When  the  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west,  we  began  to  as- 
cend the  mountains,  which  seemed  to  grow  more  formidable 
as  we  approached  them,  winding  occasionally  through  nar- 
row and  concealed  gorges,  or  crossing  an  eminence  which 
overlooked  a  wide  expanse  of  the  rich  plains  below,  and  of 
the  more  distant  Mediterranean.  At  the  summit  we  came  in 
sight  of  Mogente,  while  on  the  left  were  seen  the  turrets 
of  San  Felipe.  This  city  was  called  Jativa  by  the  Moors, 
and  was  once  famous  for  its  manufactures,  particularly  of 
paper,  which  it  claims  the  honour  of  inventing";  an  inven- 
tion, in  its  effects  upon  the  progress  of  civilization,  not  un- 
worthy of  being  compared  to  that  of  printing  itself.  In  the 
war  of  succession  between  the  French  and  Austrian  pre- 
tenders to  the  vacant  throne  of  Spain,  Jativa  was  so  unfor- 
tunate as  to  espouse  the  cause  which  proved  unsuccessful. 
Philip  V.,  when  he  at  length  got  possession  of  the  place, 
was  so  greatly  exasperated  against  the  inhabitants,  that  he 
caused  it  to  be  demolished,  and  in  its  stead  founded  a  city 
to  which  he  gave  the  renovating  name  of  his  patron  saint. 
Another  honour  claimed  by  San  Felipe,  and  it  is  indeed  a 
proud  one,  is,  that  it  gave  birth  to  the  distinguished  painter, 
Joseph  Ribera,  whom,  for  his  diminutive  size,  the  Italians 
christened  Spagnoleto.  On  the  road  which  leads  to  San 


104  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

Felipe  is  a  small  bridge,  thrown  over  a  torrent  in  which  a 
widowed  mother  had  the  hard  fortune  to  lose  her  only  son. 
Making  an  honourable  exception  to  the  unworthy  rule  that 
misery  loves  company,  she  caused  this  .bridge  to  be  erect- 
ed, that  no  other  mother  might  suffer  like  herself.  It  still 
bears-  the  name  of  the  Widow's  Bridge,  or,  in  the  more 
melodious  language  of  the  country,  Puente  de  la  Viuda. 

At  sunset  we  arrived  at  a  venta,  or  solitary  inn,  which 
lay  at  a  short  distance  from  Mogente.  We  had  journeyed 
forty-eight  miles,  and,  instead  of  going  in  a  direct  line  to- 
wards Madrid,  we  had  been  making  a  right  angle  to  its  di- 
rection from  Valencia,  and,  to  look  on  the  map,  were  not  a 
jot  nearer  our  destination  than  when  we  started.  So  much 
for  communications  in  Spain.  In  the  venta  we  found  a  Ger- 
man merchant,  who  had  come  from  Alicante  to  take  pas- 
sage with  us  to  Madrid.  He  proved  an  agreeable  compan- 
ion, and  brought  his  share  of  amusement  to  our  already 
pleasant  little  party.  When  supper  was  over,  and  our 
passports  had  been  returned  by  the  intendant  of  police,  each 
hurried  to  his  bed,  in  order  to  improve  the  few  hours  that 
were  to  intervene  before  we  should  renew  our  journey. 

The  next  day  we  were,  called  at  an  early  hour,  and  by 
three  o'clock  were  already  in  motion.  There  was  a  keen 
wind  from  the  northwest,  and  as  we  were  going  in  that  di- 
rection, it  drove  into  the  crannies  of  the  cabriolet,  and  pro- 
duced the  withering  sensation  of  the  most  intense  cold, 
which  to  me  was  the  more  severe,  that  I  had  lost  my  over- 
coat not  long  before,  and  had  neglected  to  get  another.  My 
companion  had  rolled  himself  up  in  his  ample  cloak  until 
nothing  but  his  cap  was  visible,  and  seemed  to  defy  the 
weather.  Seeing  that  the  mayoral  had  a  variety  of  skins 
and  blankets  under  him,  I  begged  from  him  the  warm 
fleecy  skin  of  a  merino,  which  I  rolled  closely  round  my 
torpid  feet ;  thus  partially  relieved,  I  sought  the  support  of 
fhe  corner,  and  was  soon  asleep. 


A    YEAR    IN   SPAIN.  105 

When  the  morning  came,  we  no  longer  beheld  the  vine- 
yards and  fruit-trees  of  Valencia,  and  the  sea  and  moun- 
tains were  likewise  withdrawn  from  view.  On  reaching 
the  summit  of  the  mountains  near  Mogente  we  did  not 
again  descend,  but  continued  to  move  forward  over  a  cham- 
paign country  which  spread  out  interminably  as  we  ad- 
vanced into  that  level  region  which  forms  the  greater  part 
of  the  two  Castiles,  and  which  stands  near  two  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea,  an  elevated  plain  in  the  midst  of  the 
Peninsula.  Nothing  can  be  more  unqualified  than  the 
gloomy  character  of  this  plain.  When  we  first  entered  it, 
a  solemn  group  of  olives  might  occasionally  be  seen,  shel- 
tered by  a  slight  inequality  in  the  surface  of  the  country ; 
but  in  advancing,  these  too  disappeared,  until  the  monotony 
at  last  became  pervading  and  perfect. 

The  utter  destitution  of  trees  in  La  Mancha,  and  the  al- 
most equal  deficiency  of  them  in  the  other  provinces  which 
form  the  central  regions  of  Spain,  are  attributed  partly  to 
the  flat,  unsheltered  nature  of  the  country,  and  the  dryness 
of  the  climate,  but  chiefly  to  a  prejudice  which  the  inhab- 
itants have  entertained  from  time  immemorial  against  them, 
as  being  the  means  of  attracting  and  sheltering  birds,  those 
busy  pilferers.  After  having  long  since  stripped  the  coun- 
try of  its  trees,  the  Castilian,  instead  of  creating  nurseries 
for  their  restoration,  has  such  an  abhorrence  for  every  thing 
of  the  kind,  that  he  will  even  prevent  the  establishment  of 
them  along  the  high  roads,  by  wounding  those  which  the 
government  has  been  at  the  expense  of  planting  there,  with 
the  beneficent  view  of  sheltering  the  traveller.  In  conse- 
quence of  their  proscription  in  the  interior  of  Spain,  it  has 
been  remarked  that  the  soil,  scorched  by  a  powerful  sun, 
with  no  trees  to  moderate  its  force  or  attract  humidity,  has 
gradually  lost  its  streams  and  fountains,  of  which  nothing 
now  remains  but  empty  ravines,  to  mark  the  forgotten 
sources  of  former  fertility. 

E  3 


106  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

The  greater  part  of  this  country  is,  however,  susceptible 
of  being  rendered  productive,  and  especially  of  furnishing 
wheat  and  wine  of  the  finest  quality  ;  but  its  population  is 
so  dwindled,  and  has  so  partial  an  interest  in  the  produce 
of  the  soil,  which  it  shares  with  an  inactive  clergy  and  no- 
bility, that  agriculture  is  on  the  worst  possible  footing.  The 
system  of  manuring  is  not  generally  practised ;  and  thus, 
while  three  fourths  of  the  country  remain  fallow,  the  re- 
mainder only  produces  a  scanty  crop  of  grain  or  potatoes. 
The  great  distance  between  the  towns,  too,  and  the  inse- 
curity of  life  and  property,  which  prevents  the  farmers  from; 
living  each  insulated  on  the  land  which  he  cultivates,  are 
additional  checks  to  agriculture  and  population.  We  fre- 
quently travelled  eight  or  ten  miles  without  finding  a  single 
habitation  on  this  road,  one  of  the  most  important  in  Spain, 
and  which,  probably,  was  a  Roman  way  in  the  time  of  Ce- 
sar. When,  too,  after  hours  of  rapid  travelling,  we  at 
length  came  to  a  town,  nothing  icould  be  more  gloomy  than 
its  appearance.  As  there  were  neither  hills  nor  forests  in- 
tervening to  obstruct  the  view,  it  could  be  seen  a  long  way 
off,  with  its  ill-fashioned  towers  projecting  out  of  a  gloomy 
group  of  houses,  plastered  over  with  clay,  which,  being  of 
the  colour  of  the  soil,  were  only  distinguished  from  it  by 
rising  above  the  cheerless  horizon.  At  the  entrance  of 
each  town  was  a  gate  for  receiving  duties,  and  in  the  cen- 
tre of  it  a  square,  round  which  were  the  different  buildings 
of  the  ayuntamiento,  or  municipality,  of  the  posada,  of  the 
butcher,  baker,  tailor,  cobbler,  and  of  the  village  surgeon  or 
barber,  living  at  the  sign  of  a  bleeding  arm  or  leg,  flanked 
by  the  helmet  of  Mambrino.  Most  of  these  towns  exhibited 
strong  symptoms  of  decline.  Many  houses  were  abandon- 
ed, with  their  roofs  fallen  in,  and  those  which  continued  ten- 
anted had  but  a  cheerless  look ;  while,  as  a  key  to  this 
desolation,  the  master  of  each  might  be  seen,  listless  and 
unoccupied,  enveloped  in  a  tattered  cloak,  and  moping  like 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN, 

a  statue  within  the  doorway.  It  was,  besides,  the  season 
of  sadness  and  decaying  nature.  There  were  no  cattle,  no 
pasture  ;  and  the  single  harvest  of  the  farmer  having  already 
been  gathered,  nothing  but  a  dusty  and  faded  stubble  re- 
mained upon  the  soil,  to  attest  that  it  had  once  been  pro- 
ductive. I  had  at  length  arrived  in  a  country  where  for- 
ests, and  the  feathered  songsters  who  find  their  home  in 
them,  were  alike  proscribed.  As  I  looked  round  on  the 
dismal  expanse,  unvaried  by  either  tree  or  bush,  I  was  at 
a  loss  to  imagine  upon  what  the  inhabitants  could  subsist, 
unless  indeed  it  was  on  the  recollections  of  the  past,  or 
upon  the  poetic  associations  which  Cervantes  has  fastened 
to  their  soil.  How  different  all  this  from  the  streams,  the 
trees,  and  the  gardens  we  had  left  behind  us  in  the  Huerta  ! 

On  reaching  this  mountain  plain,  the  change  in  the  char- 
acter of  the  country  was  even  surpassed  by  the  change  in. 
the  climate.  The  day  before  we  had  basked  at  Valencia 
in  a  summer's  sun,  tempered  by  Mediterranean  breezes, 
whereas  here  we  were  met  by  a  cold  wind,  which  rushed 
unchecked  over  the  wild,  monotonous  plains,  and  seemed 
to  freeze  one's  blood.  It  was  indeed  cold ;  there  could  be 
no  mistake  about  it,  for  we  found  ice  in  several  places,  long 
after  the  sun  had  risen,  though  it  was  only  the  fourth  of 
November. 

This  sudden  change  of  climate  in  so  short  a  distance, 
calls  for  a  corresponding  change  in  the  popular  costume. 
Besides  a  waistcoat  and  jacket  of  cloth,  covered  with  abun- 
dance of  silver  buttons,  the  inhabitant  usually  wears  a 
jacket  of  skin  with  the  wool  outwards,  which  once  warmed 
the  back  of  some  black  merino,  or,  instead  of  this,  an  ample 
cloak  of  brown,  the  right  fold  of  which  is  thrown  over  the 
left  shoulder  with  a  Roman  air.  The  head  is  covered  with 
a  pointed  cap  of  black  velvet,  the  ends  of  which  being  drawn 
down  over  the  eara,  leave  exposed  a  forehead  which  is 
usually  high,  and  features  always  manly.  Instead  of  the 


108  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

primitive  braga  of  the  Valencian,  we  now  find  tight  breech- 
es, sustained  above  the  hips  by  a  red  sash,  and  fastened  the 
whole  way  down  the  outside  of  the  thigh  by  bell  buttons, 
hi  the  place  of  the  naked  leg  and  hempen  sandal  are  wool- 
len stockings,  stout  shoes,  well  shod  with  nails,  and  gaiters 
of  leather  curiously  embroidered.  These  are  fastened  at  the 
top  with  a  gay-coloured  string,  and  not  buttoned  the  whole 
way  up,  but  left  open  for  the  purpose  of  displaying  a  mus- 
cular calf,  and  to  produce  that  janty  air  which  pleases  the 
fancy  of  a  Spaniard.  The  poorer  people,  instead  of  shoes 
and  stockings,  had  their  feet  simply  wrapped  in  bits  of  old 
cloth  or  blanket,  and  covered  with  skins  bound  to  the  foot 
with  a  thong. 

The  inhabitants  of  this  central  region  speak  the  pure 
Castilian  tongue,  unadulterated  by  foreign  idioms  or  pro- 
vincial pronunciation,  and  in  all  its  native  simplicity  and 
beauty.  They  are  of  larger  size  and  stouter  conformation 
than  the  half-clad  Valencians,  but  are  perhaps  inferior  to 
them  in  that  untamed  symmetry  of  limb,  which  the  latter 
possess  to  an  equal  extent  with  our  aboriginal  Ameri- 
cans. They  are  stigmatized  by  strangers  as  being  proud, 
grave,  inactive,  and  silent,  more  ignorant  and  more  attached 
to  their  antique  prejudices  than  those  of  their  nation  who, 
living  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  sea,  have  gained  some- 
thing by  commercial  intercourse.  Be  this  as  it  may,  I 
could  not  help  admiring  the  unbent  form  and  lofty  bearing 
with  which  these  poor  fellows  strode  forward,  enveloped  in 
threadbare  cloaks,  their  feet  bound  hi  sandals  of  uritanned 
leather,  disdaining  to  ask  the  alms  they  so  evidently  need- 
ed, or  to  betray  any  sense  of  inferiority  to  those  who  were 
better  apparelled  than  themselves ;  nor  could  I  avoid  the 
conclusion,  that  if  the  Castilian  be  fallen  from  his  proud 
rank  among  the  people  of  Europe,  we  must  not  seek  the 
cause  of  this  abasement  in  the  man  himself,  but  in  the  in- 
stitutions which  have  crushed  him. 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  109 

The  road  over  this  monotonous  region  was  almost  as 
lonely  as  the  surrounding  country.  Occasionally,  indeed, 
we  could  see  a  large  covered  wagon,  miles  ahead  of  us, 
rising,  like  a  house,  at  the  end  of  the  road,  and  on  coming 
up  find  it  drawn  by  a  string  of  mules  as  long  as  the  train 
of  our  diligence.  One  that  we  passed  in  this  way  had  pots, 
kettles,  and  chairs,  suspended  about  it  in  every  direction, 
as  if  a  family  were  moving,  while  beside  it  were  four  or 
five  servants,  armed  with  fowling-pieces.  Our  colonel  at 
once  recognised  their  livery,  and,  putting  down  the  coach 
window,  waved  his  handkerchief  to  the  travellers.  One  of 
the  servants  soon  overtook  us,  and,  jumping  to  the  box  of 
the  mayoral,  rode  a  while  beside  us,  answering  the  inquiry 
of  our  colonel,  "  Como  esta  la  marquesa  ?"  and  a  thousand 
others  ail  ending  with  marquesa.  A  marchioness  !  thought 
I — perhaps  the  wife  of  a  grandee,  making  a  nine  days' 
journey  in  a  wagon  from  Valencia  to  Madrid  J  At  other 
times  we  overtook  groups  of  dusty  mules  and  asses,  loaded 
with  sacks  of  wheat  or  skins  of  wine,  and  driven  by  fellows 
in  coats  of  sheepskin.  They  were  usually  walking,  to 
work  off  the  cold.  Once  we  saw  them  stopping  by  turns 
to  drink  wine  from  a  leathern  bottle,  the  drinker  looking 
steadfastly  towards  the  heavens,  like  Sancho  in  the  adven- 
ture of  the  wood.  An  envious  glance  of  our  mayoral  at  the 
upraised  bottle  was  a  sufficient  hint  to  these  simple  road- 
sters, and  one  of  them  came  running  with  it  beside  us,  to 
make  a  tender  which  was  not  rejected.  Early  in  the 
morning  we  met  a  half-naked  muleteer  of  Valencia  bestri- 
ding one  pf  a  string  of  mules  returning  homeward.  He 
seemed  to  have  been  baffled  in  his  calculations,  and  pre- 
maturely overtaken  by  the  cold,  like  Napoleon  in  Russia ; 
for,  rolling  his  blanket  tightly  about  him,  and  drawing  up 
his  legs,  so  as  to  bring  them  under  the  broad  folds  of  his 
linen  bragas,  he  hurried  his  mules  forward,  eager  to  escape 
from  the  unfriendly  climate. 
10 


110  A  YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

•j 

Having  journeyed  sixteen  miles,  we  came  to  Almansa, 
in  the  kingdom  of  Murcia,  over  a  corner  of  which  the  road 
passes  to  Madrid.  This  old  city  derives  its  celebrity  from 
the  bloody  battle  fought  in  its  neighbourhood,  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  last  century,  between  the  forces  of  the  Arch- 
duke Pretender,  and  the  Marshal  Duke  of  Berwick.  The 
signal  victory  achieved  by  the  latter  decided  the  dispute 
of  succession,  and  secured  the  Spanish  crown  to  the  grand- 
son of  Louis  XIV.  The  family  of  this  illustrious  son  of 
James  II.  continues  in  Spain  to  the  present  day,  enjoying 
the  highest  honours.  Just  before  reaching  Almansa,  we 
came  to  an  inconsiderable  pyramid,  erected  upon  the  site 
of  the  battle,  which  it  is  every  way  unworthy  to  commem- 
orate. 

Our  arrival  at  Almansa  was  most  welcome  to  all  of  us ; 
and  the  diligence  had  scarce  paused  in  front  of  the  inn 
where  we  were  to  eat  our  breakfast,  before  we  all  aban- 
doned it,  descending  carefully,  lest  our  legs,  which  were 
brittle  with  the  cold  and  torpor,  should  break  under  us ; 
and  when  fairly  on  the  ground,  we  hobbled  with  one  accord 
to  seek  out  the  kitchen  of  the  posada.  By  the  smoke,  cir- 
culating throughout  the  building,  we  soon  found  the  place 
of  which  we  were  in  search.  The  kitchen  was  a  square  ' 
room,  with  a  funnel  roof,  having  a  large  hole  at  the  top  for 
the  escape  of  the  smoke.  In  the  middle  of  the  earthen  floor 
was  a  large  fire  of  brushwood^  blazing  and  sending  forth 
volumes  of  smoke,  that  either  circulated  in  the  room,  or 
sought  the  aperture  above.  Round  this  primitive  fireplace 
was  a  close  ring  of  tall  Murcians  and  Castilians,  or  bare- 
legged Valencians,  whose  fine  forms  and  strongly-marked 
features  were  brought  into  increased  relief  by  the  glare  of 
the  fire.  At  one  side  of  the  room  was  a  dresser  of  mason- 
work,  connected  with  the  wall,  which,  contained  small  fur- 
naces heated  with  charcoal,  over  which  an  old  dame,  with 
three  or  four  buxom  daughters,  was  preparing  our  break- 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  Ill 

A 

fast,  which  I  discovered  was  to  consist,  among  other  things, 
of  eggs  fried  in  oil,  and  the  universal  puchero.  The  arrival 
of  the  diligence  had  accelerated  matters,  so  that  I  happened 
to  come  up  just  at  the  interesting  moment  when  the  old 
woman  was  holding  the  pot  in  both  hands  and  turning  its 
contents  into  an  immense  dish  of  glazed  earthenware. 
First  would  come  a  piece  of  beef,  then  a  slice  of  bacon, 
next  the  leg,  thigh,  and  foot  of  a  chicken  jumping  out  in  a 
hurry,  and  presently  a  whole  shower  of  garbanzos.  I  said 
not  a  word  for  fear  of  disturbing  the  operation  ;  but,  rubbing 
my  hands  and  snuffing  up  the  odour,  I  bethought  myself  of 
my  cold  feet,  and  joined  the  group  that  was  huddled,  closely 
about  the  fire.  The  circle  was  at  once  increased  so  as  to 
make  room  for  me ;  but  unfortunately  I  had  got  on  the 
smoky  side,  and,  before  I  had  even  begun  to  thaw,  my  eyes 
were  suffused  with  tears.  It  is  the  province  of  tears  to 
excite  pity.  A  stout  Manchego,  who  stood  near,  compas- 
sionating my  suffering,  grasped  my  arm  and  pulled  me  into 
his  place,  taking  mine  in  its  stead.  I  would  have  remon- 
strated, but  he  shook  his  finger,  as  if  it  were  all  one  to  him, 
and  said,  "  No  le  hace." 

Leaving  Almansa  at  ten,  we  journeyed  forward  over  a 
dull  and  level  country  until  sunset,  when  we  arrived  at  the 
considerable  town  of  Albacete,  which  boasts  some  rude 
manufactures  in  steel  and  iron,  and  where  an  annual  fair  is 
held  in  September,  which  is  one  of  the  most  frequented  in 
Spain.  Having  reposed  until  three  in  the  morning,  we 
once  more  set  forward.  The  cold  was  not  less  severe  than 
the  morning  before ;  but  my  system  had  become  a  little 
hardened  to  it,  and  besides,  my  former  travelling  compan- 
ion, the  student  in  the  rotunda,  had  lent  me  his  black  uni- 
form cloak,  which  he  had  replaced  by  a  heavier  one  of 
brown  cloth.  To  be  sure,  if  it  were  not  for  the  name,  I 
might  as  well  have  covered  myself  with  a  cobweb  ;  for  this 
apology  for  a  cloak  was,  from  old  age  and  much  brushing, 


112  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

% 

quite  as  thin  as  paper,  and  had  doubtless  served  in  the 
family  of  the  young  man  for  several  generations  of  estudi- 
antes.  It  was,  furthermore,  very  narrow  in  the  skirts,  and 
my  vain  endeavours  to  roll  myself  up  in  it  furnished  abun- 
dant amusement  to  my  companions,  who  would  fain  have 
persuaded  me  to  put  on  the  cocked  hat  of  the  student,  to 
complete  the  metamorphosis  of  the  Anglo-Americano. 

From  Albacete  we  went  to  El  Provencio,  in  the  province 
of  Cuenca,  which,  with  those  of  Toledo  and  Madrid, 
through  which  the  remainder  of  our  road  lay,  forms  part  of 
New  Castile.  Cuenca  is  an  arid  and  steril  region,  the  most 
desert  in  the  whole  Peninsula.  The  streets  of  El  Proven- 
cio were  strewed  with  the  yellow  leaves  of  the  saffron,  of 
which  large  quantities  are  raised  in  the  neighbourhood. 
This  plant  is  prepared  in  the  form  of  a  powder,  which  serves 
as  a  die  for  the  coarse  goods  made  in  the  country,  and  is 
likewise  universally  used  in  cooking,  to  season  the  soup 
and  puchero.  Leaving  El  Provencio  after  breakfast,we  all 
went  to  sleep,  as  was  our  custom.  When  we  had  advanced 
about  twenty  miles  I  was  startled  by  an  unusual  noise,  and, 
on  looking  round,  found  that  it  proceeded  from  ten  or  twelve 
windmills  that  were  drawn  up  on  the  top  of  a  ridge  on  either 
side  of  the  road  before  us.  They  seemed  stationed  there 
to  dispute  the  passage  of  the  place,  a  circumstance  which 
doubtless  suggested  to  Cervantes  the  rare  adventure  of  the 
windmills  ;  for  these  which  now  flapped  their  heavy  arms  in 
defiance  at  us  were  no  other  than  the  giants  of  Don  Quix- 
ote. Having  left  them  behind,  we  came  unhurt  in  sight  of 
El  Toboso — a  place  not  less  famous  than  the  Troy  of  Ho- 
mer and  of  Virgil.  A  single  fact,  found  in  the  delightful 
Memoirs  of  Rocca,  while  it  shows  how  universal  is  the 
fame  of  Cervantes,  displays  also  the  benign  influence  of 
letters  in  awakening  the  kinder  sympathies  of  our  nature, 
and  stripping  even  war  of  its  sternness.  It  reminds  me  of 
what  I  have  somewhere  read  of  an  Athenian  army,  defeat- 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  113 

ed  and  made  captive  in  Sicily.  The  prisoners  were  or- 
dered to  be  put  to  death ;  but  out  of  reverence  for  Euripi- 
des, such  of  his  countrymen  as  could  repeat  his  verses  were 
spared. 

"  If  Don  Quixote  was  of  no  service  to  widows  and  or- 
phans while  alive,  his  memory  at  least  protected  the  coun- 
try of  the  imaginary  Dulcinea  from  some  of  the  horrors  of 
war.  When  our  soldiers  discovered  a  woman  at  the  win- 
dow, they  cried  out,  '  Voila  Dulcinea !'  Instead  of  flying 
before  us  as  elsewhere,  the  inhabitants  crowded  to  see  us 
pass  ;  and  the  names  of  Don  Quixote  and  Dulcinea  became 
a  friendly  watchword  and  a  bond  of  union."  Toboso  lay  a 
league  or  more  to  the  left  of  the  road,  with  a  single  tower 
and  some  dingy  houses  rising  above  the  plain.  I  looked  in 
vain  for  the  grove  in  which  the  Sorrowful  Knight  awaited 
the  return  of  Sancho,  who  had  gone  to  Toboso  to  beg  an 
audience  of  the  Dulcinea  whom  he  had  never  seen.  I  took 
it  for  granted  that  the  wood  had  sprung  up  for  the  express 
accommodation  of  the  poet ;  for  during  the  Avhole  day's  ride 
I  did  not  remember  to  have  seen  a  single  tree. 

The  country  through  which  we  were  now  passing  was 
consecrated  by  the  oddest  associations,  though  in  itself  a 
dull,  unvaried  waste.  Every  thing  that  met  my  eye  fur- 
nished matter  of  amusement.  Near  Toboso  we  saw  an 
immense  flock  of  wild  pigeons,  blackening  the  field  on 
which  they  had  lighted.  Our  guides  frightened  them  from 
their  resting-place,  and  they  kept  alternately  flying  and 
lighting  before  us  for  an  hour.  These  whimsical  birds 
would  doubtless  have  furnished  La  Mancha's  knight  with 
an  excellent  adventure.  When  within  a  league  of  Quinta- 
nar  de  la  Orden,  and  with  the  town  in  sight,  we  descried 
three  horsemen  in  the  road  before  us,  apparently  awaiting 
our  arrival.  As  we  came  up,  they  appeared  to  be  accou- 
tred and  armed,  each  according  to  his  taste,  but  all  had  steel 
sabres  and  carbines,  which  hung  at  their  saddles  behind 

10* 


114  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

them.  One  of  them  had  a  second  carbine,  or  rather  fowl- 
ing-piece, on  the  other  side,  and  as  we  approached,  smaller 
weapons,  such  as  pistols,  long  knives,  and  dirks,  were  dis- 
covered, sticking  through  their  belts  or  lodged  at  the  sad- 
dlebow. I  quickly  prepared  the  pistol  which  the  colonel 
had  lent  me,  and,  when  he  had  done  the  same,  I  thought 
that  if  Don  Quixote  had  been  near  to  aid  us,  the  contest 
would  not  have  been  so  unequal.  When  alongside  of 
them,  the  faces  of  these  fellows  exhibited  scars  and  slashes, 
partially  covered  with  whiskers  and  mustaches  confounded 
together ;  and  the  glare  of  their  eyes  was  at  the  same  time 
fearless  and  stealthy,  like  that  of  the  tiger.  But  there  was 
no  cause  for  alarm.  These  men,  whatever  they  might 
once  have  been,  were  no  robbers  ;  for,  besides  the  red 
cockade,  which  showed  they  were  true  servants  of  Ferdi- 
nand, each  wore  a  broad  shoulder-belt,  with  a  plate  of  brass 
in  front,  and  on  it  engraven  "  Real  Diligencia." 

These  fellows,  instead  of  intending  to  plunder  us,  had 
come  to  prevent  others  from  doing  so ;  for  which  service 
they  had  received  a  daily  salary  from  the  company  ever 
since  about  three  months  before,  when  the  diligence  had 
been  robbed  on  its  way  to  Valencia,  almost  in  sight  of 
Quintanar.  There  were  several  other  situations  through 
which  we  had  already  been  escorted  since  the  commence- 
ment of  our  journey  ;  but  hitherto  the  guards  had  been  sol- 
diers of  the  royal  army,  such  as  had  accompanied  us  occa- 
sionally in  coming  from  Barcelona.  It  chanced  that  these 
troopers  belonged  to  the  very  regiment  of  horse  of  which 
my  companion  was  colonel ;  but  as  they  lived  dispersed  in 
the  villages  over  a  large  extent  of  country,  they  had  never 
seen  him  before.  It  was  curious  enough  to  hear  him  occa- 
sionally addressing  those  who  rode  beside  us,  and  telling 
them  "  Soy  su  coronel — I  am  your  colonel,"  showing  at  the 
same  time,  as  if  by  accident,  the  three  bands  of  gold  lace 
which  bound  the  cuffs  of  his  jacket,  and  which  in  Spain 


A.   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  115 

mark  the  rank  of  all  officers  above  a  captain ;  for  none  of 
higher  grade  wear  epaulets.  Indeed,  he  would  usually 
turn  back  his  cloak,  to  expose  its  red  velvet  lining,  and 
project  his  arms  negligently  out  of  the  window,  or  raise 
them  to  curl  his  mustaches,  whenever  he  entered  a  vil- 
lage ;  and  this  he  now  did  as  we  were  whirled  rapidly  into 
Quintanar. 

Just  before  reaching  the  gate  we  had  halted  to  take  up 
two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl,  who  had  come  out  to  meet 
us,  and  seemed  dressed  for  the  occasion.  They  were  the 
children  of  our  mayoral  Lorenzo,  who  had  lately  come  with 
his  family  from  Catalonia  to  keep  a  posada  in  Quintanar, 
and  to  be  one  of  the  conductors  of  the  diligence.  •  Having 
kissed  each  as  he  took  it  up,  and  placed  one  on  each  side 
of  him,  he  smacked  his  whip,  as  if  with  contentment,  and 
kept  looking  first  at  one  and  then  at  the  other  the  whole 
way  to  the  door  of  the  posada.  I  saw  that  there  could  be 
good  feelings  under  the  red  cap  of  Catalonia. 

The  noise  of  our  entry  into  the  little  town  brought  into 
the  street  all  those  who  had  nothing  better  to  do,  as  well  as 
such  stable-boys,  serving-maids,  and  others,  as  had  a  more 
immediate  concern  in  our  arrival.  Among  them  was  a 
large  and  fine-looking  woman,  who  withdrew  within  the 
doorway  of  the  inn  when  the  diligence  halted,  and  there 
received  Lorenzo,  and  in  such  a  way  as  showed  she  could 
be  no  other  than  his  wife.  Here  was  an  end  to  all  ser- 
vices from  our  mayoral ;  so  leaving  him,  ^Eneas  like,  to 
tell  over  his  toils,  and  receive  consolation,  we  descended 
with  one  accord  to  make  the  most  of  our  momentary  home. 

Most  of  the  inns  we  had  hitherto  come  to  had  been  es- 
tablished under  the  immediate  patronage  of  the  Catalan 
company.  They  were,  in  consequence,  well  kept,  and 
though  in  a  homely  way,  were  wanting  in  no  comfort  that 
a  reasonable  traveller  could  ask  for,  but  possessed  many 
that  I  was  not  prepared  to  find  in  a  Spanish  posada.  With 


116  A  YEAR  IN   SPAIN. 

none,  however,  was  this  so  much  the  case  as  with  the  one 
we  now  entered.  The  building  itself  did  not  seem  to  have 
been  originally  intended  for  an  inn ;  for,  contrary  to  the 
usual  custom  in  Spanish  posadas,  the  dwellings  of  man  and 
beast  were  completely  separate.  In  the  better  days  of 
Quintanar,  it  had  probably  been  the  family  mansion  of  a 
race  of  hidalgos.  The  large  door  on  the  street  opened  upon 
a  vestibule  leading  to  a  square  court,  which  had  in  the  cen- 
tre the  dry  basin  of  what  had  once  been  a  fountain,  and  was 
surrounded  by  light  pillars  of  marble,  behind  which  were 
an  upper  and  lower  corridor.  Along  both  sides  of  the  ves- 
tibule were  stone  benches,  which,  as  well  as  every  other 
part  of  the  building,  had  been  newly  whitewashed.  Here 
were  basins  of  glazed  earthenware  and  pitchers  of  water, 
with  a  clean  towel  of  coarse  linen  for  each  passenger, 
hanging  from  nails  against  the  wall.  Having  paused  here 
to  get  rid  of  the  dust  which  we  had  collected  during  the 
day,  we  next  sought  out  the  kitchen,  which  was  in  an  en- 
tirely different  style  from  the  one  in  which  we  had  warmed 
ourselves  at  Almansa.  The  cooking  operations  were,  in- 
deed, performed  over  charcoal  furnaces,  much  in  the  same 
way ;  but  instead  of  the  rude  roof  and  bonfire  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  apartment,  there  was  here  an  immense  fireplace, 
occupying  the  whole  of  one  end  of  the  room,  and  which 
called  strongly  to  my  mind  a  kitchen  chimney  I  had  seen 
more  than  a  year  before  in  the  old  chateau  of  the  Count  de 
Dunois,  in  times  gone  by  the  appendage  of  baronial  hospi- 
tality. At  each  side  of  the  large  aperture  were  benches 
incorporated  with  the  wall,  and  which,  being  within  the 
chimney  itself,  and  covered  with  mats  of  sedge,  formed  de- 
lightful sofas  for  the  chilly  and  fatigued  traveller.  Here 
then  did  we  bestow  ourselves,  to  await  contentedly  and 
even  overlook  the  preparations  for  our  evening  repast ; 
and,  as  we  inhaled  the  well-savoured  odour  that  arose  from 
it,  we  chatted  sociably  and  cheerfully  among  ourselves,  or 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  117 

exchanged  a  complacent  word  with  the  Castilian  damsels, 
who  were  performing  so  near  us  their  well-ordered  opera- 
tions. 

The  evening  had  set  in  cold,  and  the  cheerful  blazing  of 
our  fire  offered  an  attraction  which  brought  together  many 
of  the  worthies  of  Quintanar.  The  ill-favoured  members 
of  our  escort,  now  divested  of  every  thing  but  spurs  and 
sword-belt,  were  among  the  number.  They  were  to  ac- 
company us  the  next  morning  the  whole  of  the  first  stage 
beyond  the  village,  and  were  talking  over  in  monosyllables, 
with  Lorenzo,  the  preparations  for  our  departure.  Wherever 
we  had  hitherto  stopped,  the  robbery  of  the  diligence  near 
the  Ebro  had  furnished  a  fruitful  and  anxious  subject  of  dis- 
cussion. A  robbery  of  the  diligence,  attended  with  murder, 
was  not  so  common  an  occurrence  in  the  country  but  that 
it  was  looked  to  with  interest,  particularly  by  our  party, 
which,  being  similarly  situated  with  the  persons  who  met 
with  the  adventure,  was  liable  to  a  similar  interruption. 
Our  student  of  the  rotunda,  calling  up  the  rhetoric  he  had 
learned  in  Barcelona,  was  ever  ready  to  give  a  coloured 
picture  of  the  transaction ;  while  I,  as  a  witness,  was  called 
on  to  add  my  testimony,  or,  in  absence  of  the  young  man, 
to  furnish  myself  the  particulars.  The  escort,  too,  drawing 
inferences  of  what  might  be  from  what  had  been,  were  no 
less  interested  than  ourselves.  Besides,  they  had  heard 
that  a  noted  robber  of  Quintanar,  not  less  cunning  than 
bold,  had  disappeared  from  his  home,  and  that  several 
armed  men  had  been  seen  in  the  morning  by  a  muleteer, 
in  the  direction  of  Ocana.  This  was  matter  for  reflection ; 
and  Lorenzo,  after  gazing  a  while  upon  the  quiet  comforts 
of  our  fireside,  and  on  his  yet  handsome  wife,  as  she  busied 
herself  in  sending  off  our  supper  to  an  adjoining  room, 
seemed  to  think  that  things  would  not  be  the  worse  for  a 
little  delay  in  our  departure  the  next  morning  ;  for,  when  he 
had  glanced  round,  to  see  that  there  were  none  near  who 


118  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

should  not  hear  it,  he  named  four  o'clock  as  the  hour  for 
starting. 

The  escort  continued  still  to  linger  a  while  beside  the 
fireplace.  They  had  many  complaints  to  make  of  the  in- 
sufficiency of  their  pay,  many  against  their  want  of  proper 
protection  from  the  authorities.  A  year  before,  they  had 
repulsed  an  attack  made  against  the  diligence  by  five  rob- 
bers ;  for,  having  killed  the  horse  of  one  of  them,  the  fel- 
lows made  off,  carrying  with  them  their  dismounted  com- 
panion. The  horse  was  at  once  recognised  to  have  be- 
longed to  a  man  in  Quintanar,  who  had  been  at  the  head 
of  most  of  the  robberies  committed  in  the  country  for  a 
long  while,  and  who  was  the  very  same  one  of  whom  they 
were  now  in  dread.  The  suspected  person  was  found 
badly  bruised  in  his  bed,  and  was  of  course  imprisoned  ; 
but  having  brought  many  persons  to  swear  that  at  the  time 
of  the  attack  he  was  sick  at  home  in  Quintanar,  he  was 
released  after  a  short  detention.  The  fellow  neither  lacked 
money  nor  friends  ;  he  pursued  robbery  as  a  regular  trade, 
and  was  actually  getting  together  a  little  estate.  "  Es 
hombre  pequenito,"  said  the  narrator,  "  pero  el  hombre  mas 
malo  que  hay  en  el  mundo — He  is  a  little  man,  but  the 
worst  fellow  in  the  world."  What,  however,  they  most 
complained  of,  was,  that  a  cloak  and  some  arms,  which  they 
found  with  the  horse,  to  the  value  of  twenty  dollars  or  more, 
had  been  seized  upon  by  the  justice,  and  either  retained 
or  appropriated  by  the  members  of  the  tribunal ;  "  because," 
they  said,  "  the  matter  was  not  yet  adjusted :  and  these 
tangible  objects  were  el  cuerpo  del  delito — the  body  of  the 
offence."  In  this  way,  after  having  met  the  enemy  and 
stood  fire,  the  shoes  and  skin  of  the  dead  horse,  which 
they  had  sold  for  sixty  reals,  were  the  only  fruits  of  their 
victory. 

This  conversation,- and  the  disagreeable  reflections  and 
conjectures  to  which  it  gave  rise,  were  at  length  interrupted 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  119 

by  the  announcement  of  supper,  and  the  past  and  future 
were  soon  forgotten  amid  the  substantial  realities  of  a  well- 
filled  board.  Our  supper-room  was  adjacent  to  the  kitchen, 
and  its  arrangements  showed  the  same  spirit  of  order  and 
neatness  with  the  other  apartments.  The  tile  floor  was 
everywhere  covered  with  mats,  and  the  table  in  the  centre 
was  furnished  with  a  cover  for  each  passenger,  with  a  clean 
napkin  and  silver  fork,  as  in  a  French  inn.  Beneath  the 
table  was  a  brasero,  or  brass  pan,  filled  with  burning  char- 
coal, which  had  been  kindled  in  the  open  air,  and  kept 
there  till  the  gas  had  escaped.  The  brasero  was  well  bur- 
nished, and  stood  in  a  frame  of  mahogany  or  cedar,  upon 
which  each  of  us  placed  his  feet,  so  that  the  outstretched 
legs  of  our  party  formed  a  fence'  which,  together  with  the 
table,  retained  the  heat  effectually.  Supper  over,  we 
dropped  off,  one  by  one,  and  sought  the  common  dormitory 
of  our  party,  situated  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  court,  with 
a  complete  carpeting  of  straw,  and  a  clean  cot  for  each, 
placed  at  regular  intervals  along  the  apartment.  The  con- 
versation whk:h  had  commenced  in  the  kitchen,  and  was 
kept  up  at  the  supper-table,  still  continued  to  be  carried  on 
by  a  scattering  sentence,  first  from  one  and  then  another 
of  the  party,  as  he  drew  the  clothes  more  closely  about 
him,  or  turned  over  in  his  bed,  nor  had  it  entirely  subsided 
when  I  fell  asleep. 

Our  journey  the  next  day  commenced  at  four  o'clock,  as 
had  been  already  concerted,  and  I  found,  on  going  to  the 
diligence,  that  the  seat  between  the  colonel  and  myself 
was  to  be  occupied  by  a  hale,  well-made  young  woman, 
who  had  come  the  evening  before  from  El  Toboso,  and 
was  going  to  Madrid.  When  the  colonel  had  taken  his 
place,  which  was  farthest  from  the  door,  I  put  both  hands 
to  her  waist  to  help  her  up,  and,  estimating  the  solidity  of 
her  body,  prepared  to  make  a  strong  effort.  But  she  little 
needed  any  such  assistance  ;  for  a  vigorous  spring  took  her 


120  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

from  my  grasp,  and  brought  her  to  the  seat  in  the  cabriolet. 
As  she  shot  suddenly  away  from  me,  I  was  reminded  in 
more  ways  than  one  of  the  baffled  Don  Quixote,  when  Dul- 
cinea  leaped  through  his  ringers  to  the  back  of  her  donkey. 

Our  ride  to  Ocana  was  effected  without  interruption. 
Such,  however,  was  not  the  case  with  the  diligence  on  its 
return  to  Valencia,  about  a  week  after.  It  was  stopped  by 
a  strong  party,  and  with  no  little  advantage  to  the  robbers  ; 
for  there  happened  to  be  in  it  an  Englishman,  who,  igno- 
rant, doubtless,  of  the  danger,  and  of  the  express  injunc- 
tion of  the  company  against  carrying  a  large  sum  of  money, 
had  with  him  nearly  a  thousand  dollars,  and  a  watch  of 
some  value.  This  'prize  stimulated  the  band  to  new  ex- 
ertions, and,  during  the  winter,  the  Valencia  coach  was 
plundered  near  a  dozen  times  ;  nor  did  Lorenzo  always 
pass  clear.  I  met  him  one  day  in  the  street  at  Madrid, 
with  a  long  face,  that  told  me  of  his  misfortune  ere  he  had 
given  its  history. 

Ocana  is  as  old  and  ruinous  in  appearance  as  any  other 
city  in  Castile.  I  went  forth  with  the  student,  while  break- 
fast was  preparing,  to  look  at  the  public  square  with  its 
colonnades  and  antiquated  balconies.  Thence  we  went 
to  a  large  reservoir  of  water  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town, 
where  part  of  the  inhabitants  supply  themselves,  and  where 
the  women  come  to  wash  in  stone  troughs  prepared  for  the 
purpose.  The  place  was  thronged  with  donkeys,  coming 
and  going  with  earthen  jars  suspended  in  wooden  frames 
upon  their  backs,  and  conducted  by  lads  mounted  behind 
the  load  on  the  very  end  of  the  animal,  which  was  urged 
on  with  a  cry  of  "  Arre,  borrico  !"  and  guided  by  the  touch 
of  a  staff,  first  on  one  side  of  the  head,  then  on  the  other. 
There  were  many  young  women  gathered  about  the  stone 
basins,  kneeling  down  with  their  clothes  tucked  under 
them,  laugliing  and  chatting  with  each  other,  crying  out  in 
answer  to  the  salutation  of  a  lad  of  their  acquaintance  who 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  121 

had  come  for  water,  or  singing  seguidillas  and  wild  love- 
songs  of  Andalusia.  The  level  of  the  town  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  reservoir  seemed  to  be  raised  with  the 
course  of  centuries,  for  I  saw  several  subterranean  houses, 
now  inhabited,  which  seemed  to  have  been  once  on  a  level 
with  the  street.  Ocana  is  quite  celebrated  in  the  late  Pen- 
insular war  for  a  decisive  battle  fought  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, in  opposition  to  the  wish  of  Wellington,  and  in  which 
the  Spaniards  were  completely  beaten. 

On  leaving  Ocana,  the  eye  is  still  fatigued  with  a  weary 
and  monotonous  waste,  and  as  you  approach  Aranjuez,  the 
face  of  the  country  assumes  a  white  and  dusty  appearance, 
as  of  a  soil  that  has  long  been  superannuated  and  worn 
out.  A  rapid  descent  down  a  hill,  partaking  of  the  gloomy 
character  of  the  plain  above,  brought  us  in  sight  of  the 
Tajo  Dorado,  the  Golden  Tagus  of  the  poets,  winding  along 
its  deep-sheltered  bed,  in  the  direction  of  Toledo.  As  we 
passed  into  the  wide  street  of  Aranjuez,  on  our  right  hand 
was  the  unfinished  arena  for  bull-fights,  on  the  left  the  res- 
idence of  the  Spanish  kings,  consisting  of  palaces,  church- 
es, and  barracks  for  the  soldiery,  all  bound  together  by  a 
succession  of  colonnades  ;  before  us  opened  a  wide  square, 
peopled  with  statues,  and  animated  by  fountains  of  marble, 
while  the  Tagus  flowed  beyond.  We  crossed  the  river  by 
a  wooden  bridge  of  a  single  arch,  and  of  great  elegance, 
and  then  entered  an  alley  surrounded  on  every  side  by  lofty 
trees,  which  concealed  the  palaces  of  Aranjuez  from  view 
ere  I  had  time  for  a  second  glance.  But  there  was  that 
which  recompensed  me  for  the  loss  ;  instead  of  the  naked 
plains  of  Castile,  we  were  now  surrounded  by  noble  trees 
that  had  not  yet  lost  their  foliage,  and  meadows  that  were 
still  flowered  and  verdant,  and  were  serenaded  by  the  sing- 
ing of  birds  arid  by  the  flow  of  water. 

This  state  of  things  was  too  good  to  last  long.  It 
ceased  when  we  reached  the  sandy  banks  of  the  Jarama, 

VOL.  I.— F  11 


122  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

the  larger  half  of  the  Tagus,  and  which  only  awaits  the 
assistance  of  man  to  cover  its  shores  with  equal  fertility. 
Here  is  one  of  the  noblest  bridges  in  Europe,  built  of  beau- 
tifully hewn  stone,  with  high  walks  for  foot-passengers,  and 
parapets  at  the  sides,  in  which  the  stones  are  arranged  to 
rese'mble  panels.  In  the  war  of  independence,  the  English 
blew  up  the  road  over  one  of  the  arches,  to  check  the  pur- 
suit of  the  French.  The  communication  was  doubtless 
immediately  re-established  in  the  centre  ;  but  the  parapets 
and  sidewalks  remain  prostrate  at  the  bottom  of  the  river, 
though  the  king  and  court  have  made  their  annual  passage 
of  the  bridge  every  spring  since  the  restoration  of  the 
Bourbons. 

Having  crossed  the  Jarama,  we  ascended  its  western 
bank  by  a  noble  road,  which  made  repeated  angles  to 
overcome  the  abruptness  of  the  declivity.  Arrived  at  the 
top,  we  still  retained  for  a  few  moments  in  view  the  ver- 
dant groves  of  Aranjuez,  so  different  from  the  unvaried 
plain  that  spread  out  before  us,  and  whose  monotony  was 
but  slightly  relieved  by  the  dreary  chain  of  Guadarrama. 
As  we  receded,  however,  from  the  brink  of  the  ravine 
which  the  Tagus  had  fashioned  for  its  bed,  the  level  ground 
we  stood  on  seemed  to  reach  over  and  combine  itself  with 
the  kindred  plains  of  Ocana,  swallowing  up  the  verdant 
valley  from  which  we  had  just  emerged,  and  which  had  in- 
tervened, like  an  episode,  to  qualify  the  monotony  of  our 
journey. 

The  mountains  of  Guadarrama  form  the  boundary  of 
New  and  Old  Castile,  and  it  is  in  the  former  kingdom,  and 
on  the  last  expiring  declivity  of  these  mountains,  that  the 
city  of  Madrid  is  situated.  This  noble  chain  grew,  as  we 
advanced,  into  bolder  perspective,  lifting  its  crests  highest 
immediately  before  us,  and  gradually  declining  to  the  north- 
east and  southwest,  until  it  blended  with  the  horizon  in  the 
opposite  directions  of  Aragon  and  Estremadura.  Having 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  123 

passed  a  hermitage  which  a  devotee  from  America  had 
perched  upon  the  pinnacle  of  an  insulated  hill,  we  at  length 
caught  sight  of  the  capital,  rising  above  the  intervening  val- 
ley of  the  Manzanares. 

Our  first  view  of  Madrid  was  extremely  imposing.  It 
offered  a  compact  mass,  crowned  everywhere  with  count- 
less domes  of  temples  and  palaces,  upon  which  the  setting 
sun  sent  his  rays  obliquely,  and  which  conveyed,  in  a  high 
degree,  the  idea  of  magnificence  and  splendour.  Nor  was 
this  effect  diminished  as  we  advanced  ;  for  the  cupolas  first 
seen  grew  into  still  greater  pre-eminence,  while  others  at 
each  instant  rose  above  the  confusion.  At  the  distance  of 
half  a  league  from  the  city  we  were  met  by  a  carriage 
drawn  by  two  mules,  which  halted  opposite  us,  when  an 
officer  got  down  to  inquire,  on  the  part  of  some  ladies  who 
were  in  it,  for  a  female  friend  whom  they  were  expecting 
from  Valencia.  There  was  none  such  in  the  diligence. 
She  had  announced  her  arrival,  and  these  friends  who  had 
come  forth  to  meet  her,  as  is  the  amiable  custom  of  the 
country,  looked  disappointed  and  anxious.  After  a  short 
consultation,  their  carriage  turned  about  and  followed  ours 
in  the  direction  of  the  city.  Soon  after  we  came  to  the 
small  stream  of  Manzanares,  one  of  the  confluents  of  the 
Jarama,  and  upon  whose  northeastern  bank  Madrid  is 
situated.  This  river,  taking  its  course  through  moun-. 
tains,  is  liable  to  frequent  inundations  ;  and  it  is  to  obviate 
the  inconveniences  which  these  might  occasion,  that  it  is 
here  crossed  by  the  fine  bridge  of  Toledo,  which  would  do 
honour  to  the  Hudson  or  the  Susquehannah.  When  we 
crossed  it,  one  of  its  nine  noble  arches  would  have  been 
sufficient  to  allow  the  passage  of  the  Manzanares ;  for  it 
flows  in  a  narrow  bed  of  shingle,  in  the  middle  of  the  ra- 
vine. The  rest  was  abandoned  to  a  light  growth  of  grass, 
which  some  sheep  were  cropping  quietly;  a  few  women  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  arches  were  gathering  together 
F  2 


124  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

the  clothes  which  had  been  drying  on  the  grass  ;  while 
others,  having  already  done  so,  were  moving  slowly,  with 
bundles  on  their  heads,  in  the  direction  of  the  city.  The 
Manzanares  was  seen,  doubtless,  in  the  same  dwindled 
state  by  the  person,  whoever  he  was,  who  first  took  occa- 
sion to  remark,  that  he  had  seen  many  fine  rivers  that  want- 
ed a  bridge,  but  here  was  a  fine  bridge  sadly  in  want  of  a 
river,  which  he  thought  it  would  be  a  very  good  idea  to 
sell  in  order  to  buy  water. 

Beyond  the  bridge  was  a  wide  road,  leading  up  a  gradual 
ascent  to  the  splendid  portal  of  Toledo.  It  was  thronged 
by  carriages,  horsemen,  and  pedestrians,  returning  to  the 
shelter  and  security  of  their  homes.  We  left  them  to  pur- 
sue their  course,  and,  taking  an  avenue  that  led  to  the  right, 
in  order  to  avoid  the  narrow  streets  of  the  ancient  city, 
we  passed  the  fairy  palace  and  garden  of  Casino,  and 
came  to  the  old  gate  of  Atocha.  Here  our  passports  were 
taken  to  be  sent  to  the  police,  and  in  another  minute  we 
were  within  the  walls  of  Madrid,  and  in  the  capital  of  Spain. 
It  was  already  dark ;  but  as  we  drove  rapidly  forward,  my 
companion  showed  me  the  large  building  of  the  Hospital 
General  on  the  left ;  on  the  right  was  the  Garden  of  Plants, 
and  the  wide  alley  of  trees  through  which  we  drove  was 
the  now  deserted  walk  of  the  Prado.  Thence  passing 
along  the  broad  street  of  Alcala,  we  were  set  down  in  the 
courtyard  of  the  posthouse.  Having  taken  leave  of  my 
good-hearted  travelling  companions,  and  rewarded  the  kind 
attentions  of  Lorenzo,  I  put  my  trunk  upon  the  back  of  a 
Gallego,  and  soon  after  found  myself  at  home  in  the  Fonda 
de  Malta,  in  the  street  of  the  Gentleman  of  Grace. 


A  TEAR   IN   SPAIN.  125 


CHAPTER    V. 

LODGINGS    IN    MADRID. 

Don  Diego  the  Impurificado— His  History  and  Appearance— Street  of  Al- 
cala— The  Gate  of  the  Sun — A  Bravo— A  Review— The  Royal  Guard — 
Don  Valentin  Todohueso— His  Life— His  Gacetas  and  Diarios — His  Per- 
son and  Politeness — His  Daughter — His  House  and  Household — His 
Mode  of  Life. 

ONE  of  my  first  objects  on  arriving  at  Madrid  was  to 
seek  winter-quarters,  which  should  combine  the  essentials 
of  personal  comfort  with  favourable  circumstances  for  learn- 
ing the  language.  These  were  not  so  easily  found  ;  for 
though  the  Spaniards  have  no  less  than  six  different  and 
well-sounding  names  to  express  the  various  degrees  be- 
tween a  hotel  and  a  tavern,  yet  Madrid  is  so  seldom  vis- 
ited by  foreigners,  that  it  is  but  ill  provided  for  their  ac- 
commodation. In  the  way  of  hotels,  the  Fonda  de  Malta  is 
the  best  in  the  place ;  and  yet  the  room  in  which  I  passed 
the  first  two  days  of  my  stay  had  but  a  single  small  win- 
dow, which  looked  on  the  wall  of  a  neighbouring  house. 
There  were  but  two  chairs,  one  for  my  trunk,  the  other  for 
myself,  which,  with  a  bed  in  an  alcove  at  one  end  of  the 
room,  comprised  the  whole  of  its  furniture.  There  was  no 
table,  no  looking-glass,  no  carpet,  and  no  fireplace,  though 
there  had  already  been  ice,  and  my  window  was  so  placed 
that  it  had  never  seen  the  sun.  There  was  nothing,  in 
short,  besides  the  bed  and  two  chairs,  and  the  grated  win- 
dow, and  dark  walls  terminated  overhead  by  naked  beams, 
and  below  by  a  cold  tile  floor.  What  would  have  become 
of  me  I  know  not,  if  I  had  not  been  taken  from  this  cell  on 

11* 


126  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

the  third  day,  and  moved  into  a  large  apartment  at  the  front 
of  the  house,  where  the  sun  shone  in  gloriously,  and  which, 
besides,  had  a  sofa  and  half  a  dozen  straw-bottomed  chairs, 
a  straw  mat  which  covered  the  whole  floor,  a  table  with 
crooked  legs,  and  even  a  mirror.  As  for  meals,  public  ta- 
bles are  unknown  in  Spain,  and  doubtless  have  been  un- 
known for  centuries ;  for  men  are  here  unwilling  to  trust 
themselves  to  the  convivialities  of  the  table,  except  in  the 
society  of  friends.  It  is  the  custom  for  each  party  or  per- 
son to  eat  alone,  and  in  the  lower  part  of  our  fonda  was  a 
public  coffee-room  for  this  purpose,  which  I  used  to  resort 
to  in  preference  to  remaining  in  my  room.  It  was  fitted  up 
with  much  elegance,  having  marble  tables,  mirrors  with 
lamps  before  them,  columns  with  gilt  capitals,  a  pretty 
woman  placed  in  an  elevated  situation  to  keep  order,  and 
sometimes  a  band  of  music. 

Though  this  mode  of  living  was  tolerable,  yet  it  would 
not  have  been  so  for  a  whole  winter.  On  inquiry,  I  was 
told  that  there  were  "  casas  de  alquiler"  in  Madrid,  in  which 
a  person  might  rent  a  whole  habitation,  and  hire  or  buy 
furniture  to  please  himself,  and  be  served  by  a  domestic  of 
his  own ;  likewise,  that  there  were  other  establishments 
called  "  casas  de  huespede,"  kept  by  families,  which,  hav- 
ing more  room  than  they  had  occasion  for,  were  in  the  habit 
of  receiving  one  or  more  lodgers,  taking  their  meals  at  the 
common  table,  or  furnished  apart.  I  determined  at  once 
for  a  "  casa  de  huespede,"  as  according  better  with  means 
that  were  rather  limited,  and  because  the  intercourse  of  a 
family  would  be  more  favourable  to  the  acquisition  of  the 
language.  This  done,  the  next  thing  was  to  find  a  place 
that  would  suit  me  ;  and  I  was  yet  pondering  over  the  mat- 
ter on  the  sixth  day  of  my  arrival,  when  I  was  interrupted 
by  the  announcement  of  Don  Diego  Redondo  y  Moreno, 
who  came  recommended  by  a  friend  to  give  lessons  in  Span- 
ish. As  I  saw  a  great  deal  of  this  gentleman  during  my 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  127 

fltay  in  Madrid,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  give  some  account 
of  him. 

Don  Diego  Redondo,  as  he  was  called  by  his  own  right, 
and  Moreno  in  that  of  his  wife,  was  a  native  of  Cordova, 
who  had  resided  some  years  in  Madrid,  and  who,  under  the 
Constitution,  had  been  employed  in  the  office  of  the  minis- 
ter of  state.     On  the  overthrow  of  the  Constitution  he  had 
been  tossed  out  of  his  office,  which  had  at  once  been  taken 
possession  of  by  a  relation  of  one  of  the  new  chiefs  ;  while 
he,  not  having  yet  undergone  purification,  remained  in  the 
situation  of  an  "  impurincado."     The  reader  is  not,  perhaps, 
aware,  that  on  the  return  of  despotism  in  Spain,  Juntas  of 
Purification  were  established  in  all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  be- 
fore which  all  persons  who  had  held  offices  under  the  abol- 
ished system  were  bound  to  appear  and  adduce  evidence 
that  they  had  not  been  remarkable  for  revolutionary  zeal, 
nor  over-active  in  support  of  the  Constitution,  before  they 
could  be  admitted  to  any  new  employment.     Such  as  came 
out  clean  from  this  investigation,  from  being  "  impurificados" 
or  unpurified,  became  "  indefinidos"  or  indefinites,  who  are 
ready  to  be  employed,  and  have  a  nominal  half  pay.     These 
indefinites  have  long  formed  a  numerous  class  in  Spain,  and 
now  more  so  than  ever.     They  are  patient  waiters  upon 
Providence,  who,  being  on  the  constant  look-out  for  a  God- 
send, never  think  of  seeking  any  new  means  to  earn  a  liveli- 
hood.    They  may  be  seen  in  any  city  of  Spain,  lounging  in 
the  coffee-houses,  where  they  pick  their  teeth  and  read  the 
Gazette,  but  never  spend  any  thing ;  or  else  at  the  public 
walk,  where   they  may  readily  be  known,  if  they  be  mili- 
tary officers  of  rank,  by  the  bands  of  gold  lace  which  bind 
the  cuffs  of  their  surtouts  of  blue  or  snuff  colour,  and  by 
their  military  batons,  or  still  more  readily  by  the  huge  cock- 
ed hats  of  oilcloth  with  which  they  cover  their  sharp  and 
starved  features. 
Many  impurificados  of  the  present  day  have  been  pre- 


128  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

vented  from  offering  themselves  for  purification  by  the  scan- 
dal of  their  past  conduct ;  but  a  far  greater  number  are  de- 
terred by  the  rapacity  and  corruption  of  the  purifying  tri- 
bunals. Don  Diego,  being  both  a  peaceable  and  poor  man, 
was  probably  among  the  last  class.  Indeed,  I  was  after- 
ward assured  that  he  was,  and  that  he  had  been  repeatedly 
solicited  by  various  emissaries,  one  of  whom  came  from  the 
mistress  of  the  president  of  the  junta,  and  offered  for  a  stip- 
ulated sum  to  pave  the  way  to  his  thorough  purification. 
Whether  he  looked  on  the  nominal  pay  of  an  indefinite 
as  dearly  purchased  by  an  immediate  expenditure,  or  that 
he  never  had  enough  money  at  one  time  to  gratify  official 
or  sub-official  rapacity,  he  still  continued  unpurified,  and 
gained  his  bread  the  best  way  he  could,  as  a  copyist  and 
instructor  of  the  Castilian.  This  he  was  well  qualified  to 
teach,  for,  though  he  had  never  read  a  dozen  books  besides 
the  Quijote,  and  was  as  ignorant  of  the  past  as  of  the  fu- 
ture history  of  his  country,  he  had,  nevertheless,  pursued 
all  the  studies  usual  among  his  countrymen,  wrote  a  good 
hand,  was  an  excellent  Latinist,  and  perfect  master  of  his 
own  language. 

The  dress  of  Don  Diego  had  evidently  assimilated  itself 
to  his  fallen  fortunes.  His  hat  hung  in  his  hand  greasy  and 
napless :  his  boots,  from  having  long  been  strangers  to 
blacking,  were  red  and  foxy,  while  his  pea-green  frock, 
which,  when  the  cold  winds  descended  from  the  Guadar- 
rama,  served  likewise  as  a  surcoat,  looked  brushed  to  death 
and  threadbare.  He  had,  nevertheless,  something  of  a 
supple  and  janty  air  with  him,  showed  his  worked  ruffles 
and  neckcloth  to  the  best  advantage,  and  flourished  a  little 
walking-wand  with  no  contemptible  grace.  So  much  for  his 
artificial  man,  which  was  after  the  fashion  of  Europe  ;  the 
natural  man  might  have  bespoken  a  native  of  Africa.  His 
face  was  strongly  indicative  of  Moorish  blood,  with  features 
the  reverse  of  prominent,  and  very  swarthy ;  coal-black  hair 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  129 

and  whiskers,  and  blacker  eyes,  which  expressed  a  singu- 
lar combination  of  natural  ardour  and  habitual  sluggishness. 
What  my  friend  had  said  of  Don  Diego  was  greatly  in  his 
favour,  and  his  own  appearance  strengthened  my  prepos- 
session. Nor  did  I  afterward  have  reason  to  regret  it ;  for, 
though  indolent,  and  wanting  in  punctuality,  I  ever  found 
him  ready  to  oblige,  and,  on  the  whole,  the  best-natured 
fellow  in  the  world.  Indeed,  I  never  knew  him  to  be  angry 
but  on  one  occasion,  when  a  servant-woman  at  the  palace 
shut  the  door  in  our  faces.  Don  Diego,  who  was  doing  the 
honours  of  his  country  to  a  stranger,  felt  his  Spanish  pride 
grievously  insulted  ;  he  flew  into  a  terrible  rage,  foamed  at 
the  mouth,  and  called  her  "  tunante,"  or  vagabond,  an  epi- 
thet peculiarly  odious  to  Spanish  ears,  perhaps  because  too 
often  merited. 

Having  mentioned  to  Don  Diego  my  desire  to  get  into 
comfortable  lodgings  for  the  winter,  he  proposed  that  we 
should  go  at  once  in  search  of  a  room.  So,  taking  our 
hats,  away  we  went  together.  The  Calle  Caballero  de 
Gracia,  which  we  followed  to  its  termination,  conducted  us 
into  the  broadest  part  of  the  street  of  Alcala.  Here  we 
found  a  number  of  asses  which  had  brought  lime  to  the 
city.  The  commodity  was  piled  in  a  heap,  and  the  own- 
ers were  sitting  on  the  bags,  dozing,  or  singing  songs,  and 
waiting  for  purchasers ;  while  the  donkeys,  covered  with 
lime-dust,  were  lying  as  motionless  as  the  stones  beneath 
them,  or  standing  upon  three  legs,  with  heads  down  and 
pensive.  Having  turned  to  the  right,  we  went  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  Puerta  del  Sol,  looking  attentively  on  both 
sides  to  the  balconies,  to  see  if  there  were  any  with  white 
papers  tied  to  the  rails,  to  show  that  there  was  a  room  to 
be  let.  We  found  two  rooms  thus  advertised,  but  the  sun 
never  shone  on  one  of  them,  and  the  other  was  kept  by  a 
sour  old  woman,  who  did  not  seem  to  care  whether  she 
took  in  a  lodger  or  not ;  so  we  passed  on. 
F  3 


130  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

As  we  approached  the  Gate  of  the  Sun,  we  were  entan- 
gled in  a  drove  of  turkeys,  which  a  long-legged  fellow  was 
chasing  up  the  street  of  Alcala.  They  went  gobbling 
good-naturedly  along,  pausing  occasionally  to  glean  the 
pavement,  and  unmolested  by  the  driver ;  unless,  indeed, 
when  one,  abusing  his  license,  happened  to  wander  out  of 
the  way,  a  rap  on  the  wing  from  the  long  pole  which  the 
countryman  carried  would  make  the  offender  hop  back  to 
the  ranks,  and  restore  him  to  a  sense  of  subjection.  Seeing 
me  look  about  as  though  1  might  be  in  want  of  something, 
the  countryman  caught  up  a  well-conditioned  and  conse- 
quential cock,  and  brought  him  to  me,  held  unceremoniously 
by  the  legs.  "  Vea  usted  que  pavo,  Senor !"  said  he.  I  ad- 
mitted that  it  was  a  noble  bird.  He  insisted  that  I  should 
buy  it.  "  Para  su  Seflora !"  I  replied  that  I  had  no  wife. 
"  Para  su  Queridita !"  Not  even  a  mistress.  The  cock 
was  thrown  down,  took  the  respite  in  good  part,  and  we  re- 
newed our  progress. 

Passing  on,  we  came  to  a  long  row  of  "  calesines,"  a 
kind  of  gig,  of  grotesque  Dutch  figure.  Many  were  oddly 
painted  with  the  church  of  Buen  Suceso,  the  fountain  of  the 
Cybele,  or  the  Virgin  Mary,  on  the  back,  and  were  named 
accordingly.  They  were,  furthermore,  profusely  studded 
with  brass  tacks,  as  was  the  harness  of  the  horse,  usually 
a  long-tailed  Andalusian,  decorated  with  many  bells,  tas- 
sels, and  a  long  plume  of  red  woollen  erect  between  his 
ears.  As  for  the  drivers  themselves,  they  wore  round 
hats,  adorned  with  buckle,  beads,  and  tassels ;  jackets  and 
breeches  of  velvet ;  worsted  stockings,  and  long-quartered 
shoes.  Each  had  a  second  jacket,  either  drawn  on  over 
the  other,  or  more  commonly  hanging  negligently  from  the 
left  shoulder.  This  was  of  brown  cloth,  singularly  deco- 
rated with  embroidered  patches  of  red  or  yellow  cloth,  to 
protect  the  elbows  ;  a  tree  and  branches  of  the  same  upon 
the  back ;  and  in  front,  instead  of  buttons,  loops  and  cords, 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  131 

pointed  with  brass  or  silver,  which  were  attached  to 
strengthening  pieces  of  red  in  the  shape  of  hearts.  These 
caleseros  were  grouped  together  about  the  doors  of  the  tav- 
erns, cracking  their  whif  s  and  their  jokes  together.  Nor 
did  they  fail  to  make  us  proffers  of  their  services,  calling 
our  attention  to  the  elegance  of  a  gig,  and  the  good  points 
of  a  horse.  The  merry  mood,  hyperbolical  language,  and 
fantastic  dress  of  these  fellows,  so  greatly  at  variance  with 
the  habitual  gravity  of  the  Castilian,  bespoke  them  natives 
of  the  mercurial  region  of  Andalusia. 

Leaving  this  row  of  vehicles  behind  us,  we  came  to  the 
Puerta  del  Sol.  This  is  an  open  place  in  the  heart  of 
Madrid,  where  eight  of  the  principal  streets  come  together, 
and  where  the  city  may  be  said  to  have  its  focus.  In  the 
centre  is  a  fountain,  from  which  the  neighbourhood  receives 
its  supply  of  water.  One  of  the  forks  is  formed  by  the 
parish  church  of  Buen  Suceso,  and  the  others  by  the  post- 
office  and  a  variety  of  shops  and  dwellings.  In  former 
times  it  was  the  eastern  gate  of  the  city ;  hence  its  name 
of  Gate  of  the  Sun ;  but  when  the  court  came  to  Madrid, 
the  nobility  who  followed  in  its  train  constructed  their  pal- 
aces in  the  open  place  to  the  east,  so  that  the  Gate  of  the 
Sun,  from  being  the  extremity,  became  the  centre  of  Mad- 
rid. Go  where  you  will,  almost,  you  must  pass  through 
the  Gate  of  the  Sun,  for  here  you  can  choose  a  street  that 
will  lead  you  directly  to  the  place  of  which  you  are  in 
search ;  and,  put  yourself  into  any  street  in  the  extremities 
of  the  city,  it  is  sure  to  discharge  you  here.  In  this  way 
all  Madrid  passes  daily  through  this  centre  of  circulation ; 
so  that  a  stranger  may  station  himself  here  and  see  the 
population  of  the  whole  capital  passing,  as  it  were,  in  re- 
view before  him. 

Here  the  exchange  is  each  day  held,  and  the  trader 
comes  to  talk  of  his  affairs ;  the  politician,  rolled  in  his 
cloak,  signifies  by  a  shrug,  a  significant  look,  or  a  whisper, 


132  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

the  news  which  with  us  would  be  told  with  the  hands  in  the 
breeches  pocket,  the  legs  striding  apart,  and  in  the  uplifted 
voice  of  declamation.  Hither  the  exquisite  is  mechanically 
drawn  to  show  off  the  last  Parisian  mode,  to  whip  his  legs, 
and  pull  forward  the  ends  of  his  collar ;  or  the  idle  thief, 
enveloped  in  his  dingy  cloak,  to  talk  to  a  comrade  of  old 
achievements,  or  to  plan  future  depredations.  Here  are 
constantly  passing  flocks  of  sheep  and  droves  of  swine,  go- 
ing to  the  shambles  ;  mules  and  asses  laden  with  straw  or 
charcoal,  or  dead  kids  hooked  by  the  legs ;  and  always  on 
the  very  end  of  the  last  beast  of  each  row,  a  rough-clad  fel- 
low, singing  out,  with  a  grave  accent  on  the  last  syllable, 
"  Paja !  paja  !  carbon !  cabrito  !"  There  are,  moreover, 
old  women  with  oranges  or  pomegranates,  pushing  through 
the  crowd,  and  scolding  those  who  run  against  their  bas- 
kets ;  also  "  aguadores"  with  jars  of  water,  who  deafen 
you  with  cries  of  "  Quien  quiere  agua  ?"  Nor  do  beggars 
fail  to  frequent  this  resort,  especially  the  blind,  who  vocif- 
erate some  ballad  which  they  have  for  sale,  or  demand  alms 
in  a  peremptory  tone,  and  in  the  name  of  Maria  Santisima. 
Here,  too,  may  be  seen  all  the  costumes  of  Spain  ;  the 
long  red  cap  of  the  Catalan ;  the  Valencian  with  his  blan- 
ket and  airy  bragas,  though  in  the  midst  of  winter ;  the 
montera  cap  of  the  Manchego ;  the  leathern  cuiras  of  the 
Old  Castilian ;  the  trunk-hose  of  the  Leones ;  the  coarse 
garb  and  hob-nailed  shoes  of  the  Gallego ;  and  the  round 
hat  and  embroidered  finery  of  Andalusia.  Nor  does  the 
Gate  of  the  Sun  fail  to  witness  prouder  sights  than  these. 
At  one  moment  it  is  a  regiment  of  the  royal  guard  going  to 
review ;  in  the  next,  a  trumpet  sounds,  and  the  drums  of  the 
neighbouring  pickets  are  heard  beating  the  call.  Ten 
coaches  and  six  approach,  guarded  by  a  splendid  accom- 
paniment. The  cry  of  "  Los  Reyes  !"  passes  from  mouth 
to  mouth ;  the  Spaniards,  unrolling  their  cloaks  and  dof- 
fing their  hats,  give  place  for  the  Absolute  King.  Pres- 


A   YEAR    IN   SPAIN.  133 

ently  a  bell  rings,  and  every  voice  is  hushed.  A  long 
procession  of  men,  with  each  a  burning  taper,  is  seen  pre- 
ceding a  priest,  who  is  carrying  the  reconciling  sacrament 
to  smooth  the  way  for  some  dying  sinner.  Does  it  meet  a 
carriage,  though  containing  the  first  grandee  of  Spain,  the 
owner  descends,  throws  himself  upon  his  knees  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  street,  and  offers  his  carriage  for  the  conveyance 
of  the  host;  "Su  Majestad ! — His  Majesty  I"  to  indicate 
the  presence  of  the  Saviour  sacramentized,  passes  in  a 
tremulous  whisper  from  lip  to  lip ;  the  faithful  are  all  un- 
covered arid  kneeling  ;  they  smite  their  breasts  with  con- 
trition, and  hold  down  their  heads,  as  if  unworthy  to  look 
upon  the  Lamb. 

We  were  yet  standing  in  the  midst  of  this  buoyant  scene 
of  bustle  and  confusion,  when  a  sturdy  wretch  brushed  past 
us,  frowning  fiercely  on  Don  Diego.  He  was  rolled  in  the 
tatters  of  a  blanket,  and  had  on  a  pair  of  boots  so  run  down 
at  heel  that  he  trod  rather  upon  the  legs  than  the  feet  of 
them.  An  old  cocked  hat,  drawn  closely  ever  the  eyes, 
scarcely  allowed  a  glimpse  of  features  further  hidden  under 
a  squalid  covering  of  beard  and  filth.  Though  I  had  al- 
ready seen  many  strange  people  in  Spain,  this  fellow  at- 
tracted my  attention  in  an  unusual  degree.  Not  so  with 
Don  Diego.  The  fellow's  frown  seemed  to  forbid  recogni- 
tion, and  he  said  not  a  word  until  he  had  been  long  out  of 
sight.  He  at  length  told  me  that  the  man  had  once  been 
his  acquaintance,  and  was,  like  himself,  a  native  of  Cordova. 
He  had  been  a  captain  of  horse  under  the  Constitution,  and 
having  been  a  violent  man,  had  lain  long  in  the  common 
prison  after  the  return  of  despotism.  When  he  at  length 
escaped  from  it,  Don  Diego  took  compassion  upon  him  as 
one  of  his  own  province  and  a  companion  in  misfortune. 
He  allowed  him  to  sleep  in  the  outer  room  of  his  apartment, 
and  even  shared  with  him  the  contents  of  his  own  scanty 
purse.  Very  soon  after  his  lodgings  were  robbed  of  every 
12 


134  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

thing  they  contained,  and  his  friend  came  no  more  to  share 
his  hospitality.  In  a  short  time  some  darker  crime  forced 
the  miscreant  from  Madrid,  and  Don  Diego  had  not  seen 
him  for  more  than  two  years.  I  inquired  why  he  did  not 
send  the  police  after  him.  He  answered  that  the  police 
would  give  him  more  trouble  than  the  robber,  and  ended  by 
saying,  "  Is  it  not  enough  that  he  has  plundered  me  ;  would 
you  have  him  take  my  life  ?" 

The  unpleasant  reflections  excited  by  this  rencounter 
were  soon  banished  by  strains  of  music,  and  the  clatter 
of  advancing  hoofs.  The  body  of  cavalry,  which  now 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  multitude  in  the  Puerta  del 
Sol,  and  for  which  a  passage  was  soon  opened  by  the 
bearded  veterans  who  came  in  front  of  the  array,  was  a 
regiment  of  lancers  of  the  royal  guard ;  a  beautiful  and  well- 
mounted  corps,  in  Polish  uniforms,  with  high  schaikos,  each 
with  a  lance  having  a  pennon  of  red  and  white.  Next 
came  a  band  of  some  thirty  musicians,  playing,  on  every  va- 
riety of  horn  or  trumpet,  that  most  beautiful  piece  Di  piacer 
mi  balza  il  cor,  from  the  Gazza  Ladra  of  Rossini.  I  thought 
I  had  never  heard  any  sounds  so  delightful.  Even  the  ar- 
dour of  the  horses  seemed  lulled  by  them ;  presently,  how- 
ever, the  cadence  passed  into  a  blast  far  livelier  than  the 
love-song  of  Ninetta,  and  away  they  went  at  a  gallop  in  the 
direction  of  the  Prado. 

Immediately  behind  the  lancers  came  a  regiment  of  cui- 
rassiers, mounted  chiefly  on  powerful  horses,  with  long 
sweeping  tails,  and  manes  parted  in  the  middle,  and  flow- 
ing on  both  sides  the  whole  depth  of  the  neck.  The  men 
were  stout  and  fine  looking  fellows,  incased  in  long  jack 
boots,  with  Grecian  helmets  and  cuirases  of  steel,  on  the 
front  of  which  were  gilded  images  of  the  sun.  Their  offen- 
sive weapons  consisted  of  stout  horse-pistols  and  straight 
sabres  of  great  length,  from  the  royal  armory  of  Toledo. 
There  was  to  be  a  review  on  the  Prado,  and  having  always 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  135 

been  fond  of  listening  to  music  and  looking  at  the  soldiers, 
I  proposed  that  we  should  see  it.  Don  Diego  was  one  of 
those  ready  fellows  of  idle  mood  and  ample  leisure  who 
are  pleased  with  every  proposition  ;  so  we  went  at  once  in 
quest  of  the  soldiery. 

The  review  took  place  near  the  convent  of  Atocha.  The 
minister  of  war,  with  a  brilliant  staff,  mounted  on  splendid 
barbs  from  the  meadows  of  the  Tagus  or  Guadalquivir,  was 
posted  in  front  of  the  convent,  and  received  the  salutations 
of  the  passing  soldiery.  It  was  one  of  those  bright  and 
cloudless  days  so  common  in  the  elevated  region  of  Mad- 
rid. The  sun  shone  full  upon  polished  helmets,  cuirases, 
and  sabres,  or  flickered  round  the  ends  of  the  lances ; 
while  the  combined  music  of  both  corps,  stationed  at  the 
point  about  which  the  platoons  wheeled  in  succession,  sent 
forth  a  martial  melody.  The  display  was  a  brilliant  one, 
and  I  enjoyed  it  without  reservation.  I  looked  not  to  the 
extortion  and  misery  which,  among  the  industrious  classes, 
must  pay  for  this  glitter  and  pageantry  ;  to  the  cause  of  in- 
justice and  oppression  it  might  be  called  to  support ;  to  the 
rapine  and  murder,  the  famine  and  pestilence,  the  thousand 
crimes  and  thousand  curses,  that  follow  in  the  train  of 
armies. 

The  corps  of  the  royal  guard  has  been  established  within 
a  few  years,  to  supply  the  place  of  the  foreign  mercenaries, 
the  Swiss  and  Walloon  guards,  formerly  employed  by  the 
kings  of  Spain.  It  consists  of  twenty-five  thousand  men, 
at  least  as  well  equipped  as  those  of  the  French  royal 
guard  ;  while  in  point  of  size,  sinewy  conformation,  capacity 
to  endure  fatigue,  and  whatever  constitutes  physical  excel- 
lence, the  Spaniards  are  far  superior.  The  officers,  how- 
ever, and  it  is  they  who  give  the  tone  to  an  army,  are  very 
inferior ;  for  the  old  Spanish  officers,  having  been  almost 
all  engaged  in  bringing  about  and  sustaining  the  Constitu- 
tion, are  now  generally  in  disgrace  or  banishment.  Their 


136  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

stations  in  the  regiments  of  the  line  are  chiefly  filled  by 
lowborn  men,  taken  from  the  ploughtail  or  the  workshop, 
who  were  led  by  avarice  or  fanaticism  to  join  the  royalist 
guerillas  at  the  period  of  the  last  revolution.  In  the  royal 
guard  they  have  been  superseded  by  young  nobles,  who  are 
many  of  them  children  in  age,  and  all  of  them  infants  in 
experience.  It  is  difficult,  indeed,  to  conceive  a  greater 
disparity  than  exists  between  those  old  French  sabreurs, 
with  their  long  mustaches  and  scarred  features,  who  have 
gained  each  grade  upon  the  field  of  battle,  and  these  beard- 
less nobles  of  the  Spanish  guard.  Though  young  and  in- 
experienced, these  officers  are  yet  spirited,  fine-looking 
fellows.  They  are  said  to  be  imbued  with  liberal  ideas, 
and  to  be  only  different  from  their  predecessors  of  the  Con- 
stitutional army  in  not  having  had  an  opportunity  to  declare 
themselves.  This  is  the  more  likely  to  be  true  from  their 
youth ;  for  though  at  a  more  advanced  age  men  easily  adapt 
their  opinions  to  the  dictates  of  interest,  yet  the  young  mind 
ever  leans  towards  truth  and  reason.  When  there  is  an- 
other revolution  in  Spain,  it  will  doubtless  be  brought  about 
by  the  army,  which  in  point  of  intelligence  is  far  in  ad- 
vance of  the  nation ;  and,  though  expressly  created  to  pre- 
vent such  a  result,  it  is  most  likely  to  originate  with  the 
royal  guard. 

By  the  time  the  review  was  over,  and  we  were  on  our 
way  back,  Don  Diego  was  very  tired.  He  had  a  mode  of 
walking  on  his  heels,  with  out-turned  toes,  which,  however 
graceful,  did  not  at  all  answer  on  a  march.  He  complained 
bitterly  of  his  feet,  sent  his  boot-maker  to  the  devil,  and 
made  a  low  bow  at  every  step.  I  sympathized  in  his  suf- 
ferings, offered  him  my  arm,  and  helped  him  to  carry  him- 
self back  to  the  Gate  of  the  Sun,  from  which  the  soldiers 
had  drawn  us.  On  the  way  he  bethought  himself  of  an  old 
friend  in  the  Calle  Montera,  who  might  perhaps  be  willing 
to  receive  a  lodger.  The  man's  name  was  Don  Valentin 


A  YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  137 

Todohueso,  and  the  particulars  of  his  history  were  strongly 
indicative  of  the  character  of  his  countrymen  and  of  the 
misfortunes  of  his  country. 

Don  Valentin  was  a  native  of  Logrofio,  in  the  fertile  can- 
ton of  Rioja.  He  was  by  birth  an  hidalgo,  or  noble  in  the 
small  way,  after  the  manner  of  Don  Quixote,  and  had  been 
of  some  importance  in  his  own  town,  of  which  he  was  one 
of  the  regidores.  In  the  political  ups  and  downs  of  his 
country,  he  had  several  times  changed  his  residence  and 
occupation ;  was  by  turns  a  dealer  in  cattle,  which  he  pur- 
chased in  France  or  in  the  northern  provinces  of  the  Pen- 
insula, to  strengthen  the  stomachs  of  the  combatants  who 
disputed  for  the  possession  of  Spain  ;  or  else  a  cloth-mer- 
chant, keeping  his  shop  in  the  same  house  where  he  now 
lived,  near  the  Puerta  del  Sol.  His  last  occupation  was  in- 
terrupted, according  to  his  own  account,  in  a  very  singular 
way.  While  he  had  been  regidor  in  Logroho,  the  ayunta- 
miento  of  the  town  became  acquainted  with  the  hiding-place 
in  which  some  French  troops,  in  retreating  rapidly  towards 
the  frontier,  had  deposited  a  large  quantity  of  plate  and 
valuables,  robbed  from  the  royal  palace.  On  the  return  of 
Ferdinand,  the  account  of  the  buried  plate  reached  his 
ears  ;  and  having  likewise  learned  that  there  was  a  man  in 
Madrid  who  knew  where  it  had  been  concealed,  he  sent 
at  once  for  Don  Valentin,  who  was  the  person  in  question. 
When  ordered  by  his  majesty  to  conduct  a  party  to  the 
place  of  concealment,  he  pleaded  the  situation  of  his  affairs. 
If  his  shop  continued  open,  it  would  be  pillaged  by  the 
plerks,  who  are  the  most  unprincipled  fellows,  except  the 
escribanos,  to  be  found  in  Spain  ;  and  if  it  were  shut  up, 
he  would  lose  both  present  and  future  custom.  Besides, 
the  other  regidores,  his  colleagues  in  the  municipality, 
were  yet  alive,  and  still  resided  at  Logrono.  He  entreated 
his  majesty,  therefore,  not  to  send  him  from  his  affairs,  for 
he  was  but  a  poor  man,  and  had  a  wife  and  daughter.  Fer- 
12* 


138  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

dinand,  in  reply,  promised  to  recompense  all  losses  he 
might  sustain  by  abandoning  his  trade,  and  to  pay  him  well 
for  the  sacrifice.  He  ended  by  putting  it  upon  his  loyalty. 
Don  Valentin  was  an  old  Castilian;  so  he  hesitated  no 
longer,  but  sold  out,  shut  his  shop,  and  went  off  to  Rioja. 

Whether  it  were  owing  to  the  small  number  of  persons 
who  had  been  in,  the  secret,  or  to  the  sacredness  with 
which  the  Spaniards  regard  every  thing  which  belongs  to 
their  religion  and  their  king,  the  treasure  was  all  found  un- 
touched in  the  place  of  its  concealment.  It  was  brought 
safely  to  Madrid,  Don  Valentin  being  at  the  expense  of 
transportation.  He  now  presented  his  various  claims  to 
government,  for  damages  suffered  by  loss  of  trade,  and  for 
the  expenses  of  the  journey,  including  the  subsistence  of 
the  foot-soldiers  who  had  served  as  escort,  which  he  had 
defrayed  from  his  own  purse.  These  claims  were  readily 
admitted,  and  an  early  day  appointed  for  their  liquidation. 
The  day  at  length  comes,  but  the  money  comes  not  with 
it.  Don  Valentin  has  an  audience  of  the  king ;  for  no  king 
can  be  more  accessible  than  Ferdinand.  He  receives  the 
royal  word  for  the  payment ;  for  no  king  could  be  more  com- 
pliant. He  has  many  audiences,  receives  many  promises, 
but  no  money.  Meantime  he  lives  upon  hope,  and  the  more 
substantial  balance  remaining  from  the  sale  of  his  stock. 
These  were  near  failing  together,  when  the  year  1820 
brought  some  relief  to  the  misfortunes  of  Spain.  It  like- 
wise improved  the  condition  of  Don  Valentin.  Taking  ad- 
vantage of  the  publicity  which  was  allowed  in  Spain  by 
the  new  system,  he  established  a  reading-room,  where  all 
the  daily  papers  of  the  capital  and  of  the  chief  cities  of 
Europe  were  regularly  received.  This  went  on  very  well, 
until  the  French,  who  never  yet  came  to  Spain  on  any  good 
errand,  overthrew  the  constitution.  Liberty  of  thought  and 
speech  fell  with  it.  Don  Valentin  was  invited  to  shut  up 
his  reading-room,  and  he  once  more  retired  to  live  upon  his 


A.   TEAR   IN    SPAIN.  139 

savings,  amounting  to  some  ten  or  twelve  hundred  dollars, 
which  he  had  hidden  away  in  a  secret  corner  of  his  dwel- 
ling. This  was  taken  out,  piece  by  piece,  to  meet  the 
necessities  of  his  family,  until  one  day  the  house  was  en- 
tered by  three  robbers,  who  muzzled  the  old  woman  with  a 
towel,  tied  her  to  the  bedstead,  and  then  carried  off  not 
only  the  earnings  of  Don  Valentin,  but  silver  spoons  and 
forks,  and  every  thing  of  value,  to  the  very  finery  of  his 
daughter.  This  last  blow  laid  poor  Don  Valentin  com- 
pletely on  his  back.  All  that  he  now  did  was  to  take  the 
Diario  and  Gaceta,  which  his  wife  let  out  to  such  curious 
people  as  came  to  read  them  in  the  common  entry  of  their 
house.  This  furnished  the  trio,  of  which  the  family  con- 
sisted, with  their  daily  puchero,  his  daughter  with  silk 
stockings  and  satin  shoes  to  go  to  mass  and  walk  on  a 
feast-day  upon  the  Prado,  and  himself  with  now  and  then 
his  paper  cigarillo. 

By  the  time  we  had  discussed  the  history  of  Don  Valen- 
tin, we  reached  the  door  of  his  house  in  the  Calle  Montera. 
Nearly  the  whole  front  of  the  basement  story  was  hung 
with  cloths  festooned  from  the  lower  balcony,  to  show  the 
commodity  that  was  sold  within.  Beside  the  shop  was  a 
second  door  opening  on  a  long  entry,  about  four  feet  in 
width,  which  led  to  an  equally  contracted  staircase  at  the 
Sack  of  the  house.  Here  we  entered,  and  found  seated 
within  the  doorway  an  old  woman,  with  a  woollen  shawl 
over  her  head,  and  on  her  lap  a  bundle  of  Gacetas  and  Di- 
arios.  The  whole  extent  of  the  entry  was  strung  with  a 
file  of  grave  politicians,  wrapped  in  their  cloaks,  as  in  so 
many  sleeveless  frocks,  with  their  hands  coming  out  inde- 
cently from  beneath  to  hold  a  Gaceta.  Don  Diego  beg- 
ged my  pardon,  and  went  in  advance  to  clear  the  way, 
with  the  cry  of  "  Con  licencia,  senores  !"  The  readers  let 
their  arms  fall  beside  them,  drew  nigh  to  the  wall,  and 
turned  sidewise,  to  make  themselves  as  thin  as  possible. 


140  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

We  did  the  same,  and  as  fortunately  none  of  us  were  very 
corpulent,  we  got  by  with  little  detention  or  difficulty,  and 
commenced  ascending  a  stairway  partially  illuminated  by 
embrasures,  like  a  Gothic  tower.  Let  us  pause  to  take 
breath  during  this  tedious  ascent  up  three  pair  of  stairs, 
and  profit  by  the  interval  to  say  something  of  the  Diario  and 
Gaceta,  which  so  greatly  occupied  the  attention  of  the  pol- 
iticians below,  and  which  contain,  the  first,  all  the  commer- 
cial information  of  the  Spanish  capital ;  the  second,  all  the 
literary,  scientific,  and  political  intelligence  of  the  whole 
empire. 

The  Diario  is  a  daily  paper,  as  its  name  indicates,  print- 
ed on  a  small  quarto  sheet,  a  good  part  of  which  is  taken 
up  with  the  names  of  the  saints  who  have  their  feast  on  that 
day ;  as,  San  Pedro  Apostol  y  Martir,  San  Isidoro  Labra- 
dor, or  Santa  Maria  de  la  Cabeza.  I  forget  whether  it  was 
from  the  Diario  of  Madrid  or  of  Barcelona  that  I  took  the 
following  singular  heading  in  relation  to  the  religious  cere- 
monies of  the  day.  "  To-morrow,  being  Friday,  will  be 
celebrated  the  feast  of  the  glorious  martyr,  San  Poncio,  ad- 
vocate and  protector  against  bedbugs — abogado  contra 
las  chinches. — There  will  be  mass  all  the  morning,  and  at 
seven  o'clock  will  take  place  the  blessing  of  branches  and 
flowers,  in  honour  of  the  aforesaid  saint." — The  branches 
and  flowers  thus  blessed  are  doubtless  found  efficacious  in 
preserving  houses  from  these  irksome  tenants,  and  so  form  a 
convenient  substitute  for  the  troublesome  care  of  cleanli- 
ness. Next  follows  an  account  of  the  churches  where  there 
are  to  be  most  masses,  what  troops  are  to  be  on  guard  at 
the  palace,  the  gates,  and  theatres.  Next  the  commercial 
advertisements,  telling  where  may  be  purchased  Bayonne 
hams  and  Flanders  butter,  with  a  list  of  wagons  that  are 
taking  in  cargo  and  passengers  for  Valencia,  Seville,  or 
Corufia,  and  the  names  and  residence  of  wet-nurses,  newly 
Arrived  from  Asturias,  with  fresh  milk  and  good  characters. 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  141 

The  Gaceta  is  published  three  times  a  week,  at  the  royal 
printing-office,  on  a  piece  of  paper  somewhat  larger  than  a 
sheet  of  foolscap.  It  usually  begins  with  an  account  of 
the  health  and  occupation  of  their  majesties,  and  is  filled 
with  extracts  from  foreign  journals,  culled  and  qualified 
to  suit  the  meridian  of  Madrid ;  with  a  list  of  the  bonds  of 
the  state  creditors  which  have  come  out  as  prizes,  that  is, 
as  being  entitled  to  payment  by  the  "  Caja  de  Amortiza- 
cion,"  or  Sinking  Fund ;  with  republications  of  some  old 
statute,  condemning  such  as  neglect  to  pay  their  tithes  to 
the  infliction  of  the  bastinado ;  or  with  an  edict  against 
freemasons,  devoting  them  to  all  the  temporal  and  spiritual 
punishments  which  the  throne  and  altar  can  bestow  :  death 
here,  and  damnation  hereafter. 

Meantime  we  had  reached  the  landing-place  of  the  third 
story,  and  pulled  the  bell-cord  which  hung  in  the  corner. 
Before  the  sound  was  out  of  the  bell,  we  were  challenged 
by  a  voice  from  within,  crying,  in  a  sharp  tone,  "  Quien? — 
Who  is  it  ?" — "  Gente  de  paz  ! — Peaceful  people  !"  was  the 
answer  of  Don  Diego.  Our  professions  of  amity  were  not, 
however,  sufficient,  and  we  were  reconnoitred  for  half  a 
minute  through  a  small  wicket,  which  opened  from  within, 
and  was  provided  with  a  mimic  grating  like  the  window  of 
a  convent.  The  man  who  now  looked  at  us  from  the  secu- 
rity of  his  stronghold  had  no  occasion  to  close  one  eye 
while  he  peeped  with  the  other,  for  he  was  one-eyed,  or,  as 
the  Spaniards,  who  have  a  word  for  every  thing,  express  it, 
"  tuerto."  When  he  had  sufficiently  assured  himself  of  our 
looks  and  intentions,  several  bolts  and  latches  were  remov- 
ed, the  door  was  opened,  and  Don  Valentin  stood  before  us. 
He  was  a  tall  and  thin  man,  dressed  in  a  square-tailed  coat 
and  narrow  pantaloons  of  brown,  with  a  striped  waistcoat 
of  red  and  yellow.  The  collar  and  ruffles  of  his  shirt,  as 
well  as  the  edges  of  a  cravat  of  white  cambric,  were  elab- 
orately embroidered,  and  made  a  singular  contrast  with  the 


142  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

coarseness  of  his  cloth.  Beside  him  were  an  immense  parr 
of  stiff-backed  boots  with  tassels,  ready  to  supersede  the 
slippers  which  he  wore.  His  face  was  thin,  wrinkled,  and 
sallow,  with  teeth  of  a  dark  and  unnatural  colour,  like  those 
of  most  of  his  countrymen  ;  a  circumstance  which  was  suf- 
ficiently accounted  for  by  the  cigarillo  which  he  held  in  his 
fingers,  the  ends  of  which  had  been  died  by  the  heated  pa- 
per to  the  colour  of  saffron.  I  had  observed  from  without, 
that  of  his  right  eye  nothing  remained  but  an  ungainly  hol- 
low ;  this  gave  a  sinister  expression  to  a  face  in  itself  suf- 
ficiently ill-favoured,  and  which  was  further  set  off  by  a 
bony,  gaunt  figure,  and  by  black  and  bristly  hair,  which 
seemed  to  grow  in  all  directions  from  sheer  inveteracy. 

These  observations  were  made  while  the  punctilious 
politeness  which  distinguishes  the  old  Castilian,  and  to 
which  the  Andaluz  is  no  stranger,  was  expending  itself  in, 
kind  inquiries  after  the  health  of  each  other  and  family. 
"  Como  esta  usted  ? — How  fares  your  grace  ?" — "  Sin  nove- 
dad  para  servir  a  usted,  y  usted  ? — As  usual,  at  your  grace's 
service  ;  and  yourself?"  Then  followed  a  long  list  of  in- 
quiries for  Dona  Concha  on  one  part,  and  La  Flornecia  on 
the  other ;  with  the  replies  of  "  Tan  buena,  tan  guapa  para 
servir  a  usted — Equally  well,  famously,  at  your  mercy's  ser- 
vice." By  this  time,  Don  Valentin  had  discovered  me  in 
the  obscurity  of  the  doorway ;  so,  directing  his  eye  at  me, 
and  inclining  his  ungainly  figure,  he  said,  with  an  attempt 
at  unction,  "  Servidor  de  usted  caballero,"  and  bade  us 
pass  onward  into  a  small  saloon,  of  which  he  opened  the 
door.  When  he  had  got  into  his  boots,  he  followed, 
and,  after  a  few  more  compliments,  Don  Diego  opened 
the  subject  of  our  visit.  Don  Valentin,  after  a  becom- 
ing pause,  replied,  that  the  room  we  were  in  had  served 
them  as  a  parlour,  and  that  the  alcove  had  been  the  sleep- 
ing apartment  of  his  daughter ;  but  that,  if  it  suited  me 
to  occupy  it,  they  would  live  in  the  antesala  adjoining  tho 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  143 

kitchen,  their  daughter  would  move  up  stairs,  and  I  should 
have  the  whole  to  myself.  The  room  was  every  thing  one 
could  have  wished  in  point  of  situation,  for  it  overlooked  the 
Puerta  del  Sol,  and  had  a  broad  window  fronting  towards 
the  southeast,  which,  from  its  elevation  above  the  opposite 
roofs,  was  each  morning  bathed  by  the  earliest  rays  of  the 
sun.  But  I  did  not  like  the  look  of  Don  Valentin,  nor  did  I 
care  to  live  under  the  same  roof  with  him.  So,  when  we 
rose  to  depart,  I  said  I  would  think  of  the  matter,  secretly 
determining,  however,  to  seek  lodgings  elsewhere. 

Don  Valentin  accompanied  us  to  the  door,  charged  Don 
Diego  with  a  load  of  "  expresiones"  for  his  family,  and,  as 
is  the  custom  on  a  first  visit  to  a  Spaniard,  told  me  that  his 
house  and  all  it  contained  was  at  my  entire  disposal.  He 
had  told  us  for  the  last  time,  "  Que  no  haya  novedad ! 
Vayan  ustedes  con  Dios  ! — May  you  meet  with  no  acci- 
dent !  May  God  be  with  you  !" — and  was  holding  the  door 
for  us,  when  we  were  met  on  the  narrow  landing,  full  in  the 
face,  by  the  very  Dona  Florencia  about  whom  Don  Diego 
had  asked,  and  who  had  just  come  from  mass.  She  might 
be  nineteen  or  thereabout,  a  little  above  the  middle  size,  and 
finely  proportioned,  with  features  regular  enough,  and  hair 
and  eyes  not  so  black  as  is  common  in  her  country,  a  cir- 
cumstance upon  which,  when  I  came  to  know  her  better, 
she  used  to  pride  herself;  for  in  Spain,  auburn  hair,  and 
even  red,  is  looked  upon  as  a  great  beauty.  She  had  on  a 
mantilla  of  lace,  pinned  to  her  hair  and  falling  gracefully 
about  her  shoulders,  and  a  basquina  of  black  silk,  garnished 
with  cords  and  tassels,  and  loaded  at  the  bottom  with  lead, 
to  make  it  fit  closely,  and  show  a  shape  which  was  really 
a  fine  one.  Though  high  in  the  neck,  it  did  not  descend 
so  low  as  to  hide  a  well-turned  ankle,  covered  with  a  white 
stocking  and  small  black  shoe,  bound  over  the  instep  by  a 
riband  of  the  same  colour. 

As  I  said  before,  I  was  met  full  in  the  face  by  this  dam- 


144  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

sel  of  La  Rioja,  to  whose  cheek  the  ascent  of  three  pairs 
of  stairs  had  given  a  colour  not  common  in  Madrid,  and  to 
herself  not  habitual.  Her  whole  manner  showed  that 
sense  of  satisfaction  which  people  who  feel  well  and  virtu- 
ously always  experience  on  reaching  the  domestic  thresh- 
old. She  was  opening  and  shutting  her  fan  with  vivacity, 
and  stopped  short  in  the  midst  of  a  little  song,  a  great  fa- 
vourite in  Andalusia,  and  which  begins, 

V 

"  O  no  !  no  quiero  casarme ! 

Ques  mejor,  ques  mejor  ser  soltera !" 

We  came  for  a  moment  to  a  stand  in  front  of  each  other, 
and  then  I  drew  back  to  let  her  pass,  partly  from  a  sense 
of  courtesy,  partly  from  a  reluctance  to  depart.  With  the 
ready  tact  which  nowhere  belongs  to  the  sex  so  completely 
as  in  Spain,  she  asked  me  in,  and  I  at  once  accepted  the 
invitation,  without  caring  to  preserve  my  consistency.  Here 
the  matter  was  again  talked  over,  the  daughter  lent  her 
counsel,  and  I  was  finally  persuaded  that  the  room  and  its 
situation  were  even  more  convenient  than  I  at  first  thought, 
and  that  I  could  not  possibly  do  better.  So  I  closed  with 
Don  Valentin,  and  agreed  to  his  terms,  which  were  a  dol- 
lar per  day  for  the  rent  and  meals.  In  Madrid,  lodgings 
are  hired  by  the  day  ;  and  though  a  tenant  may  abandon  a 
house  at  a  day's  notice,  he  cannot  be  forced  from  it  by  the 
landlord,  so  long  as  he  continues  to  pay  the  stipulated  rent. 
That  very  afternoon  I  abandoned  the  Fonda  de  Malta,  and 
moved  into  my  new  lodgings,  where  I  determined  to  be 
pleased  with  every  thing,  and,  following  the  prescription 
of  Franklin's  philosopher  with  the  handsome  and  deformed 
leg,  to  forget  that  Don  Valentin  was  tuerto,  and  look  only 
at  Florencia. 

Being  now  established  for  the  winter,  it  may  not  be 
amiss  to  give  some  account  of  the  domestic  economy  of  our 
little  household.  The  apartments  of  Don  Valentin  occu- 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  145 

pied  the  whole  of  the  third  floor  and  two  rooms  in  the  gar- 
ret, a  third  being  inhabited  by  a  young  man,  a  cadet  of 
some  noble  house,  who  was  studying  for  the  military  ca- 
reer. One  of  these  rooms  was  appropriated  by  Don  Valen- 
tin as  a  bedroom  and  workshop  ;  for,  like  the  Bourbon  fam- 
ily, he  had  a  turn  for  tinkering,  and  usually  passed  his 
mornings,  to  my  no  small  inconvenience,  in  planing,  ham- 
mering, and  sawing  in  his  aerial  habitation.  I  used  some- 
times to  wonder,  when  I  saw  his  neighbour  the  cadet  lying 
in  his  bed  and  studying  algebra  in  his  cloak,  boots,  and 
foraging-cap,  for  he  kept  no  brasero,  how  he  managed  with 
such  a  din  beside  him  to  follow  the  train  of  his  equations. 

Immediately  within  the  door  of  our  habitation  was  a 
small  room  called  antesala,  where  the  family  ate  their 
meals.  Connected  with  the  antesala  by  a  doorway  which 
had  no  door,  was  a  kitchen  equally  small,  and  of  which 
near  one  half  was  occupied  by  a  huge  chimney,  hanging 
over  it  like  an  inverted  funnel.  The  space  under  the  chim- 
ney was  filled  by  a  brick  dresser  with  several  furnaces. 
Here  the  family  cooking  was  done,  over  embers  of  char- 
coal, in  small  stone  pitchers,  called  pucheros,  which  were 
seen  hanging  on  nails  round  the  kitchen,  of  every  different 
size,  like  big  and  little  children  of  the  same  family.  Here 
every  thing  had  its  place.  The  walls  were  garnished  with 
platters,  knives,  forks,  and  tumblers,  bestowed  in  wooden 
racks,  the  handiwork  of  Don  Valentin.  In  one  corner 
stood  a  huge  earthen  jar,  which  the  waterman  filled  every 
other  day  with  water  from  the  Gate  of  the  Sun ;  while  the 
hollow  place  beneath  the  furnaces  was  stowed  with  char- 
coal, bought  once  a  week  from  a  passing  carbonero. 

A  narrow  passage  led  from  the  antesala  to  my  own  apart- 
ment. On  one  side  of  it  was  the  bedroom  of  Don  Valen- 
tin's wife,  the  same  old  woman  whom  we  had  seen  in  the 
entry,  a  good-natured  soul,  whose  desire  to  oblige  made  a 
perfect  drudge  of  her.  It  was  always  night  in*  this  room, 

VOL.  L— G  13 


146  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

for,  being  in  the  middle  of  the  house,  it  was  without  a  win*- 
dow.  On  the  opposite  side,  a  door  opened  into  the  alcove 
of  an  apartment,  which  corresponded  with  and  adjoined 
my  own.  Tnis  was  inhabited  by  one  Dona  Gertrudis,  a 
noble  lady  of  Asturia,  whose  husband  had  been  a  colonel 
in  the  army,  and  who  dared  not  return  to  Spain,  whence  he 
fled  on  the  arrival  of  the  French,  because  he  had  given  an 
ultra-patriotic  toast  at  a  public  dinner,  in  the  time  of  the 
Constitution.  He  was  wandering  about  somewhere  La 
America,  she  scarce  knew  where,  for  it  was  next  to  impos- 
sible to  hear  from  him.  This  woman  was  a  singular  ex- 
ample of  the  private  misery  which  so  many  revolutions  and 
counter-revolutions  have  produced  in  Spain,  and  brought 
home  to  almost  every  family.  Of  three  brothers  who  had 
held  offices  under  the  government,  two  had  been  obliged  to 
fly,  and  were  now  living  in  England,  a  burden  to  the  fam- 
ily estate.  This,  with  the  death  of  her  two  children,  and 
the  absence  of  their  father,  who  alone  could  have  consoled 
her  for  the  loss,  had  so  greatly  preyed  upon  her  health, 
that  she  was  threatened  with  a  cancer  in  the  breast.  Her 
friends  had  sent  her  to  the  capital,  to  procure  better  advice 
than  could  he  found  at  Oviedo.  She  frequently  told  me  her 
story,  talked  of  other  days,  when  her  husband,  being  high 
in  favour,  had  brought  her  to  this  same  Madrid,  taken  her 
to  court,  and  led  her  into  all  the  gayeties  of  the  capital. 
Her  situation  was  indeed  a  sad  one,  and  I  pitied  her  from 
my  soul. 

My  own  room  was  of  quadrangular  form,  and  sufficiently 
large  for  a  man  of  moderate  size  and  pretensions.  On  the 
side  of  the  street  a  large  window,  reaching  from  the  ceiling 
to  the  floor,  opened,  with  a  double  set  of  folding-doors, 
upon  an  iron  balcony.  The  outer  doors  were  filled  with 
glass  of  various  forms  and  sizes,  curiously  put  together  in  a 
sash  of  iron.  The  inner  ones  were  of  solid  wood,  studded 
with  iron,  and  fit  to  resist  a  siege.  When  closed,  they 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  147 

were  firmly  secured  by  a  long  vertical  bolt,  having  hooks  at 
either  end,  which  projected  above  and  below  the  door,  and 
drew  it  close  to  the  window-frame.  This  folding  window 
is  found  all  over  France,  and  the  bolt  which  confines  it  is- 
there  called  espagnolette.  Directly  in  front  of  the  window 
was  a  recess  or  alcove,  concealed  by  curtains ;  within 
which  was  my  bed,  consisting  of  a  set  of  loose  boards  sup- 
ported on  two  horses,  and  painted  green  to  keep  away  in- 
sects, a  woollen  mattress,  with  sufficient  clothes,  making 
altogether  a  bed  which  was  rather  unyielding,  but  of  which 
I  soon  grew  fond,  and  which,  at  any  rate,  was  better  than 
that  of  the  fonda.  At  the  bedside  was  a  clean  merino 
fleece  to  alight  on,  in  addition  to  the  mat  of  straw  or  espar- 
to, which  covered  the  alcove  and  sitting-room. 

The  furniture  consisted  of  a  dozen  rush-bottom  chairs,  a 
chest  of  drawers,  which  Don  Valentin  himself  had  made, 
and  where,  at  my  request,  Florencia  continued  to  preserve 
her  feast-day  finery,  and  a  huge  table,  which  filled  one  end 
of  the  room,  and  which  I  had  at  first  taken  for  a  piano. 
There  were  here  but  few  ornaments ;  two  or  three  engra- 
vings hung  about  the  walls,  in  which  one  of  Raphael's 
Virgins  was  paired  with  a  bad  picture  of  hell  and  its  tor- 
ments. There  was,  likewise,  on  the  bureau,  a  glass  globe 
with  a  goldfish.  Though  the  pet  of  Florencia,  and  well 
cared  for,  this  little  fellow  seemed  weary  of  his  prison- 
house  ;  for  night  and  day  he  was  ever  swimming  round 
and  round,  as  if  in  search  of  liberty.  On  the  whole,  there 
was  about  this  dwelling  an  air  of  great  snugness  and  quiet. 
The  balcony,  however,  was  by  far  the  most  agreeable  part 
.of  my  habitation.  There,  leaning  on  the  railing,  I  passed 
a  portion  of  each  day ;  for  when  cavalcades  and  proces- 
sions failed,  there  was  always  abundant  amusement  in  ga- 
zing upon  the  constantly  circulating  multitude,  and  in  study- 
ing the  varied  costumes  and  striking  manners  of  this  pecu- 
liar people.  Nor  were  other  motives  wanting  to  lead  me 
G2 


148  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

to  the  balcony.  The  one  immediately  next  my  UVYU  was 
frequented,  at  all  hours,  by  a  young  Andaluza  of  surpassing 
boauty ;  while  over  the  way  was  the  habitation  of  Letizia 
Cort  jssi,  the  prima  donna  of  the  Italian  opera. 

As  for  the  occupations  of  our  little  family,  they  were  such 
art  are  common  in  Spain.  The  first  thing  in  the  morning 
v  as  to  arrange  and  order  every  thing  for  the  day.  Then 
etch  took  the  little  "  higada"  of  chocolate  and  "  panecillo," 
Of  small  roll,  of  the  delightful  bread  of  Madrid.  This  meal 
is  not  taken  at  a  table,  but  sitting,  standing,  or  walking  from 
room  to  room,  and  not  unfrequently  in  bed.  This  over, 
each  went  to  his  peculiar  occupations  ;  the  old  woman  with 
her  Diarios  and  Gacetas  to  open  her  reading-room  in  the 
entry ;  Florencia  to  ply  her  needle,  and  Don  Valentin  to 
play  tinker  over  head,  having  first  taken  out  his  flint  and 
steel,  and  cigar  and  paper,  to  prepare  his  brief  cigarillo, 
which  he  would  smoke,  with  a  sigh  between  each  puff, 
after  those  days  of  liberty  when  a  cigar  cost  two  cuartos 
instead  of  four.  Towards  noon  he  would  roll  himself  in 
his  "  capa  parda,"  cloak  of  brown,  and  go  down  into  the 
Puerta  del  Sol,  to  learn  the  thousand  rumours  which,  in  the 
absence  of  all  publicity,  there  find  daily  circulation.  If  it 
were  a  feast-day,  the  mass  being  over,  he  would  go  with 
his  daughter  to  the  Prado.  At  two,  the  family  took  its  mid- 
day meal ;  consisting,  besides  some  simple  dessert,  of  soup 
and  puchero,  well  seasoned  with  pepper,  saffron,  and  gar- 
lic. If  it  had  been  summer,  the  siesta  would  have  passed 
ir  sleep ;  but  it  being  winter,  Don  Valentin  took  advantage 
ot  the  short-lived  heat  to  wander  forth  with  a  friend  ;  and 
in  the  evening  went  to  his  "  tertulia,"  or  friendly  reunion. 
In.  summer,  one  or  even  two  o'clock  is  the  hour  of  retiring ; 
but  in  winter  it  is  eleven.  Always  the  last  thing  before 
going  to  bed  was  to  take  a  supper  of  meat  and  tomatoes, 
prepared  in  oil,  or  other  greasy  stew,  to  sleep  upon. 

Such  was  the  ordinary  life  of  this  humble  family.     Don. 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  149 

Valentin  sometimes  varied  it  by  going  off  with  some  friends 
on  a  shooting  excursion,  from  which  he  scarcely  ever  return- 
ed without  a  good  store  of  hares  and  partridges.     On  such 
occasions  he  was  always  followed  by  his  faithful  Pito,  a  fat 
spaniel,  of  very  different  make  from  his  master.     This  Pitt, 
or  Pito,  so  called  in  honour  of  the  British  statesman,  had 
passed  through  dangers  in  his  day ;  for  in  Spain  even  the 
lives  of  the  dogs  do  not  pass  without  incident.     He  was 
one  day  coursing  with  his  master  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  Escurial,  happy  in  being  rid  of  the  dust  and  din  of  the 
city,  when  they  were  suddenly  set  upon  by  robbers.     Don 
Valentin  was  made  to  deliver  up  his  gun,  and  lie  down  on 
the  ground  while  his  pockets  were  rifled.     When,  howev- 
er, the  robber  who  took  the  gun  had  turned  to  go  away,  Pito 
gathered  courage  and  seized  him  by  the  leg.     The  incensed 
ruffian  turned  about  and  levelled  his  piece,  while  poor  Pito, 
well  aware  of  the  fatal  power  of  the  weapon,  slunk  to  the 
side  of  his  master.     The  situation  of  man  and  dog  was  in- 
deed perilous ;  but,  fortunately,  the  piece  missed  fire,  and 
both  were  saved.     Nor  should  I  forget  to  say  something  of 
a  cat,  last  and  least  of  our  household,  whose  name  was  Jes- 
samine.    It  was  only  in  name,  however,  that  he  differed 
from  and  was  superior  to  other  cats ;  like  them,  he  was 
sly,  mischievous,  and  spiteful,  and  would  invite  my  ca- 
resses by  rubbing  his  back  against  my  leg,  or  playing  with 
the  tails  of  my  coat,  only  when  he  wished  to  share  my  din- 
ner or  be  allowed  to  warm  himself  on  the  brasero. 

Of  my  own  mode  of  life  and  occupations  in  Madrid  it  is 
unnecessary  to  speak,  since  they  had  little  connexion  with 
the  customs  of  the  country.  It  may,  however,  be  proper  to 
say  something  of  the  city,  and  of  the  public  spectacles  and 
amusements,  which  have  so  much  to  do  with  forming,  as 
well  as  elucidating,  the  manners  and  character  of  a  nation. 
13* 


150  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

MADRID. 

Kingdom  of  New  Castile — Situation  of  Madrid — Climate — History — Gen- 
eral Description — Gallician  Watermen — The  Five  Royal  Palaces — 
Churches — Museum  of  Paintings — The  Spanish  School — Academy  of 
San  Fernando — Museum  of  Armour — Charitable  and  Scientific  Institu- 
tions— Royal  Library. 

NEW  CASTILE  occupies  the  centre  of  the  Peninsula,  and 
is  enclosed  on  every  side  by  the  kingdoms  of  Arragon,  Old 
Castile,  Cordova,  Jaen,  Murcia,  and  Valencia.  It  is  sub- 
divided into  the  provinces  of  Madrid,  Guadalaxara,  Cuenca, 
Toledo,  and  La  Mancha.  Its  surface  consists  chiefly  of 
elevated  plains,  intersected  by  lofty  mountains,  notwith- 
standing which  its  rivers  are  few  and  inconsiderable  ;  and 
as  it  rains  seldom,  the  country  frequently  suffers  from 
drought,  particularly  in  La  Mancha,  where  the  water  is  of 
very  bad  quality.  The  cold  is  often  severe  in  winter  in 
New  Castile,  especially  in  Cuenca ;  but  the  air  is  very  pure, 
and  the  climate  healthy.  This  kingdom  possesses  mines  of 
calamine  at  Riopar  in  La  Mancha,  and  of  quicksilver  at  Al- 
maden  in  the  same  province,  and  near  the  celebrated  shrine 
of  our  Lady  of  Guadalupe.  The  mines  of  Almaden  pro- 
duce annually  twenty  thousand  quintals  of  this  precious 
mineral.  The  mountains  of  New  Castile  supply  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  plains  with  charcoal  for  fuel,  and  are  covered 
with  noble  trees,  suitable  for  ship-building.  They  likewise 
afford  pasture  to  horses,  cows,  mules,  and  swine,  and  to 
large  flocks  of  wandering  merinoes,  which  come  in  summer 
from  the  warmer  plains  and  valleys,  to  crop  their  tender  her- 
bage. The  level  regions  produce  wheat  and  wine  of  ex- 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  151 

cellent  quality ;  some  oil,  honey,  saffron ;  a  plant  called 
alazor,  useful  in  dying,  and  sumac,  barilla,  and  glasswort. 
With  the  exception  of  manufactories  for  cloth  at  Guadalax- 
ara,  silk  at  Toledo  and  Talavera,  and  such  rude  fabrics  as 
are  necessary  for  domestic  use,  New  Castile  possesses  no 
manufactures  except  in  a  few  decaying  establishments. 

The  city  of  Madrid  is  the  capital  of  New  Castile,  as  of 
the  whole  Spanish  empire.  It  is  situated  upon  the  left 
bank  of  the  small  stream  of  Manzanares,  on  several  sand- 
hills, which  form  the  last  declivity  of  the  mountains  of 
Guadarrama.  It  stands  in  latitude  forty  north,  at  an  eleva- 
tion of  two  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  al- 
most mathematically  in  the  centre  of  the  Peninsula.  It  is 
the  highest  capital  of  Europe,  for  its  elevation  vis  fifteen 
times  as  great  as  that  of  Paris,  and  nearly  twice  that  of  Ge- 
neva. The  neighbouring  country  is  of  very  irregular  sur- 
face, and  broken  into  an  infinite  succession  of  missha- 
pen hills,  so  that,  although  there  are  near  two  hundred 
villages  in  the  vicinity  of  the  capital,  not  more  than  four  or 
five  can  ever  be  discovered  at  once.  The  soil  is  of  a  dry  and 
barren  nature,  and  produces  nothing  but  wheat,  which  yields 
only  ten  for  one,  but  which  is  very  sweet  and  of  excellent 
quality.  Madrid  has  no  immediate  environs,  no  country- 
seats  of  the  rich  inhabitants,  none  of  those  delightful  little 
colonies  which  are  usually  found  clustering  round  the  walls 
of  a  great  city,  and  which  combine  the  convenience  of  a 
town  residence  with  the  enjoyment  of  rural  life.  The 
dread  of  living  secluded  leads  the  inhabitants  to  gather  to- 
gether for  mutual  protection  ;  so  that  if  you  wander  a  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  gates  of  Madrid,  you  see  no  dwellings 
to  allure  you  forward  with  the  cheering  assurance  of  soci- 
ety, but  seem  to  have  taken  leave  of  civilization  and  the 
haunts  of  men.  Nor  are  there  any  forests  or  orchards  to 
make  up  for  the  absence  of  inhabitants,  if,  indeed,  you  ex- 
cept the  valley  of  the  Manzanares,  and  to  the  east  a  few 


152  A   YEAR  IN    SPAIN. 

scattering  olive-trees,  as  sad  and  gloomy  in  appearance  as 
their  owners,  the  monkish  inmates  of  San  Geronimo.  and 
Atocha.  In  former  times,  however,  the  country  about  Mad- 
rid was  covered  with  forests,  abounding  in  wild  boars  and 
bears ;  and  hence  it  is  that  the  city  derives  its  arms  of  a 
bear  rampant,  with  his  fore  paws  resting  against  a  tree. 
The  total  disappearance  of  these  forests  can  be  accounted 
for  only  by  that  singular  prejudice  of  the  Castilians  which 
has  already  been  noticed. 

The  climate  of  Madrid,  though  subject  to  great  variation, 
is  nevertheless  healthful,  and  has  ever  been  a  stranger  to 
epidemic  diseases.  Its  sky  is  almost  always  transparent 
and  cloudless,  and  the  air  so  pure,  that  the  carcasses  of  cats 
and  dogs,  which  are  often  allowed  to  remain  in  the  streets, 
dry  up  beneath  the  ardent  sun  with  scarce  any  signs  of 
putrefaction.  The  ordinary  extremes  of  temperature  in 
Madrid  are  ninety  of  Fahrenheit  in  summer,  and  thirty -two 
in  winter ;  but  there  is  scarcely  a  year  that  the  thermome- 
ter does  not  rise  above  a  hundred,  and  fall  below  fourteen ; 
for,  though  the  inclined  position  of  the  city  facilitates  its 
ventilation,  it  likewise  exposes  it  more  fully  to  the  uninter- 
cepted  rays  of  a  powerful  sun  ;  and  in  winter  the  neigh- 
bouring mountains  of  Guadarrama  send  down  from  their 
snowy  reservoirs  such  keen  breezes,  that,  perhaps  in  a  few 
places  is  the  cold  more  pinching  than  in  Madrid.  This 
was  especially  the  case  during  the  winter  I  resided  there, 
which  was  the  most  inclement  that  has  been  known  in  Eu- 
rope for  many  years.  Several  sentinels  were  frozen  on 
their  posts  along  the  parapet  in  front  of  the  palace,  over- 
looking the  ravine  of  the  Manzanares,  down  which  the 
northwest  winds  descend  with  accumulated  violence.  Two 
soldiers  of  the  Swiss  brigade  were  among  the  number  ;  and 
though  they  were  relieved  at  short  intervals,  and  might 
have  been  supposed  no  strangers  to  cold  in  their  own  Al- 
pine country,  they  were  nevertheless  found  in  their  sentry- 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  153 

boxes  stiff  and  lifeless.  Several  washerwomen,  too,  going 
as  usual  to  the  Manzanares — for,  being  poor,  they  could  not 
well  lie  by  for  the  weather — were  overtaken  by  a  similar 
calamity ;  so  that  the  police  was  obliged  to  place  sentinels 
to  prevent  others  from  pursuing  their  ordinary  occupation. 

I  have  said  that  the  climate  of  Madrid  was  healthful  in 
the  extreme.  This,  however,  like  every  general  rule,  has 
its  exception.  There  is  in  winter  a  prevailing  disease 
called  pulmonia,  a  kind  of  pleurisy,  which  carries  the  heal- 
thiest people  off  after  four  or  five  days'  illness.  I  was  one 
evening,  in  the  month  of  November,  at  the  house  of  a  mar- 
quis, a  very  fat  man,  who  in  his  early  days  had  been  an  of- 
ficer in  the  navy,  and  had  even  made  a  campaign  of  six 
weeks  in  a  guarda-costa.  Though  he  had  retired  to  Mad- 
rid decorated  with  a  variety  of  crosses,  to  live  upon  the  in- 
come of  extensive  estates  which  he  possessed  in  Murcia, 
his  tastes  were  still  altogether  naval,  and  his  rooms  were 
hung  round  with  plans  of  ships,  dry-docks,  and  sea-fights. 
A  short  time  after  I  met  him  in  the  Puerta  del  Sol,  as  fat 
and  smiling  as  ever ;  but  at  the  end  of  three  days  I  was 
told  that  he  was  ill  of  a  pulmonia ;  on  the  fourth,  that  he 
had  received  the  viaticum  and  extreme  unction ;  and  the 
next  day  the  poor  marquis  was  no  more.  This  was  not  a 
solitary  case  ;  for  during  the  months  of  November  and  De- 
cember, this  disease  carried  off  its  hundreds  in  a  week. 
The  Madrileuos  have  a  mortal  dread  of  a  still  cold  ah 
which  comes  quietly  down  from  the  mountains,  and  which, 
they  say,  "  mata  un  hombre,  y  no  apaga  una  luz, — kills  a 
man,  and  does  not  put  out  a  candle."  In  such  weather  you 
see  every  man  holding  the  corner  of  his  cloak,  or  a  pocket 
handkerchief,  to  his  mouth,  and  hurrying  through  the  streets, 
without  turning  to  the  right  hand  or  the  left,  as  though 
death,  in  the  shape  of  pulmonia,  were  close  upon  his  heels. 
For  myself,  I  never  felt  the  cold  more  sensibly.  It  seemed 
to  pierce  my  clothes  like  a  shower  of  needles,  and  I  found 
G3 


154  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

there  was  no  way  of  excluding  it  but  to  get  a  cloak  as  am- 
ple as  John  Gilpin's,  and  roll  myself  up  in  it  until  I  be- 
came as  invisible  as  the  best  of  them. 

Such  are  the  situation  and  climate  of  Madrid.  As  for 
its  antiquity,  the  pride  of  its  inhabitants  would  carry  us 
back  to  a  period  anterior  to  the  foundation  of  Rome,  when 
some  foolish  Greeks  came,  passing  over  the  fair  regions  of 
Andalusia  or  Valencia,  to  found  in  this  cheerless  waste, 
and  among  the  savage  Carpitanians,  a  city  to  which  they 
gave  the  name  of  Mantua.  If  such  were  indeed  the  case, 
these  colonists  could  only  have  been  members  of  some 
Stoic  sect,  whose  chief  ambition  it  was  to  reject  ease  and 
comfort  for  self-denial  and  mortification.  The  first  men- 
tion that  is  anywhere  found  in  history  of  Madrid  is  in  the 
tenth  century,  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  years  after  the 
Moorish  invasion,  when  Don  Ramiro  II.,  King  of  Leon,  fell 
upon  the  Moors  of  the  town  of  Magerit,  entered  the  place 
by  force  of  arms,  threw  down  its  walls,  and  committed  all 
sorts  of  ravages.  Hence,  it  probably  owes  its  foundation 
to  the  Moors. 

Don  Enrique  III.  was  the  first  king  of  Castile  proclaimed 
in  Madrid.  The  court  continued  still  to  fluctuate  between 
Valladolid  and  Madrid,  until  the  accession  of  Philip  II., 
who  finally  settled  it  in  the  latter  place,  where  it  has  re- 
mained ever  since  with  little  interruption.  He  is  said  to  have 
.  been  chiefly  attracted  by  the  salubrity  of  its  climate,  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  water,  and  the  vicinity  of  the  mountains  of 
Guadarrama,  which  furnished  abundance  of  game.  At  the 
same  time,  the  principal  nobles  removed  to  Madrid,  in 
order  to  be  near  the  court,  and  the  city  began  to  acquire 
the  magnificence  becoming  a  capital  which  was  the  focus 
and  rallying-point  of  the  whole  Spanish  monarchy.  The 
arts  and  sciences  were  soon  in  a  flourishing  condition,  and 
churches  and  convents  rose  in  every  direction,  to  bear  tes- 
timony to  another  age,  of  squandered  wealth  and  mistaken 
piety. 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  155 

Notwithstanding  the  civil  wars  which  disturbed  the  ac- 
cession of  Philip  V.  to  the  throne,  he  found  means  to  in- 
crease and  embellish  the  capital,  by  establishing  the  royal 
library  and  various  academies.     He  constructed  the  bridge 
of  Toledo,  and  commenced  the  building  of  the  palace.    But 
it  is  to  Charles  III.  that  Madrid  owes  all  its  present  mag- 
nificence.    Under  his  care  the  royal  palace  was  finished, 
the  noble  gates  of  Alcala  and  San  Vincente  were  raised  ; 
the  custom-house,  the  postoffice,  the  museum,  and  royal 
printing-office  were  constructed  ;  the  academy  of  the  three 
noble  arts  improved  ;  the  cabinet  of  natural  history,  the  bo- 
tanic garden,  the  national  bank  of  San  Carlos,  and  many  gra- 
tuitous schools,  established;   while  convenient  roads  lead- 
ing from  the  city,  and  delightful  walks  planted  within  and 
without  it,  and  adorned  by  statues  and  fountains,  combine 
to  announce  the  solicitude  of  this  paternal  king.     In  the 
unworthy  reign  of  Charles  IV.,  of  his  wicked  queen,  and 
of  Godoy,  Madrid  was  the  scene  of  every  thing  that  was 
base  and  degrading,  until  the  nation,  wearied  of  such  an 
ignominious  yoke,  proclaimed  Ferdinand  VII.  at  Aranjuez, 
and  the  populace  testified  their  joy  by  plundering  the  pal- 
ace of  the  Prince  of  Peace.     Very  soon  after  the  accession 
of  Ferdinand,  he  left  Madrid  on  his  infatuated  journey  to 
Bayonne,   and  Murat  took  possession  of  the  city  at  the 
head  of  thirty  thousand  French.     The  occasion  of  the  de- 
parture of  the  remaining  members  of  the  royal  family  for 
Bayonne  first  gave  vent  to  the  indignation  of  the  Madrile- 
nos.     The  gallant  partisans,  Daoiz  and  Velarde,  turned  two 
pieces  of  cannon  upon  the  usurpers,  and  fell  gloriously  in 
the  cause  of  their  country,  while  the  popidace,  rushing  forth 
with  their  knives,  assassinated  the    defenceless   French 
wherever  they  met  them.     The  vengeance  of  Murat  was 
terrible.      Sending   patrols   into   every   street,    he    seized 
all  such  as  were  found  with  knives,  drove   them  into  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Retiro,  and  fired  upon  them  by  volleys. 


156  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

This  is  the  celebrated  "  Dos  de  Mayo — Second  of  May." 
The  news  of  the  atrocity  spread  like  wildfire  throughout 
the  Peninsula.  The  Spaniards  flew  to  arms,  and  the  war 
of  independence  was  commenced.  After  the  shedding  of 
rivers  of  blood,  and  the  loss  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
lives,  Ferdinand  at  length  returned  to  his  capital,  to  which 
he  was  chiefly  restored  by  the  fierce  energies  of  his  sub- 
jects. 

Such  are  some  of  the  events  of  which  'Madrid  has  been 
the  theatre.  When  the  stranger,  newly  arrived  within  its 
walls,  looks  round  in  search  of  the  local  advantages  which 
led  to  its  foundation,  he  is  at  a  loss  to  conceive  how  it 
should  have  become  a  great  city.  The  surrounding  coun- 
try is  so  little  adapted  to  pastoral  and  agricultural  pursuits, 
that  butcher's  meat,  and  fruits,  and  almost  all  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  are  brought  from  the  extremities  of  the  king- 
dom. Thus,  supplies  of  fish  come  in  fish-diligences  from 
the  Atlantic  and  Mediterranean ;  cattle  from  Asturias  and 
Gallicia,  and  fruit  from  the  distant  orchards  of  Andalusia 
and  Valencia.  With  these  disadvantages,  manufactures 
can  never  flourish  in  Madrid ;  and  as  to  commerce,  the 
mountains  which  form  its  barrier  on  the  north  and  west 
check  its  communications  with  half  the  Peninsula ;  while 
the  inconsiderable  stream  of  Manzanares  furnishes  no  facil- 
ities of  transportation ;  none  of  any  sort,  indeed,  except  sup- 
plying water  to  accommodate  the  washerwomen. 

Though  accident  or  caprice  has  alone  given  exist- 
ence to  Madrid,  and  though  a  city  thus  raised  to  wealth 
and  power  must  necessarily  relapse  into  insignificance 
when  the  interests  of  the  whole,  and  not  the  will  of  one, 
shall  govern  the  concerns  of  Spain,  yet  it  is  not  the  less  a 
great  city.  It  is  nearly  eight  miles  in  circumference,  of 
square  figure,  and  contains  a  population  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  inhabitants,  living  in  eight  thousand  houses  ; 
so  that  there  are  about  eighteen  persons  to  a  house,  each 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  157 

house  containing,  in  general,  as  many  families  as  stories. 
Madrid  has  one  hundred  and  forty-six  temples  for  worship, 
including  collegiate  and  parish  churches,  convents,  beateri- 
os,  oratories,  chapels,  and  hermitages.  Among  this  number 
are  sixty-two  convents  for  monks  and  nuns.  It  has,  besides, 
eighteen  hospitals,  large  and  small ;  thirteen  colleges,  fif- 
teen academies,  four  public  libraries,  six  prisons,  fifteen 
gates  of  granite,  eighty-five  squares  and  places,  and  fifty 
public  fountains,  which  supply  the  inhabitants  with  delight- 
ful water,  brought  from  mountain  springs  thirty  miles  from 
the  city. 

The  water  is  conveyed  from  the  fountains  to  the  houses 
of  the  inhabitants  by  several  thousand  Gallegos  and  Astu- 
rians,  who  are  exclusively  the  water-carriers.  Indeed,  a 
Gallego  who  has  established  an  extensive  custom,  when 
he  has  made  a  little  fortune  of  two  or  three  hundred  dol- 
lars, wherewith  to  retire  to  his  native  mountains  and  rear 
a  family,  has  the  privilege  either  of  selling  his  business  or 
of  bequeathing  it  to  a  relative.  To  lay  up  money  on  their 
scanty  earnings  of  course  requires  the  most  narrow  econ- 
omy. Accordingly,  we  find  them  doing  menial  offices  for 
a  family,  for  the  sake  of  sleeping  on  the  entry  pavement, 
or  else  clubbing  together,  a  dozen  or  twenty,  to  hire  a  lit- 
tle room  in  the  attic.  As  for  their  food,  they  buy  it  at  a  tav- 
ern, or  from  old  women  who  keep  little  portable  kitchens 
at  the  corners,  and  either  eat  it  on  the  spot,  or  seated  on  their 
water-kegs  about  the  fountains,  two  or  three  messing  to- 
gether, and  helping  themselves  with  wooden  spoons  from 
the  same  earthen  vessel.  Others  there  are  who,  instead 
of  carrying  water  for  domestic  use,  parade  certain  streets, 
taking  due  care  not  to  infringe  the  domain  of  a  brother,  and 
sell  it  by  the  glassful  to  those  who  pass.  They  carry 
simply  an  earthen  jar,  suspended  by  a  leathern  sling  behind 
the  back.  The  mouth  of  the  jar  has  a  cork  with  two  reeds ; 
one  to  allow  the  water  to  pass  out,  the  other  to  admit  the 
14 


158  A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

air.  When  asked  for  water,  they  take  a  glass  from  the 
basket  on  their  left  arm,  and,  stooping  forward,  fill  it  with 
great  dexterity.  They  do  not  wait,  however,  for  the  thirsty 
to  find  them  out,  but  deafen  one  with  cries  in  badly-pro- 
nounced Spanish,  of — "  Agua !  Agua  fresca !  Que  ahora 
raismo  viene  de  la  fuente  !  Quien  bebe,  seniores?  Quien 
bebe  ? — Water !  fresh  and  sparkling !  just  from  the  foun- 
tain !  who  drinks,  gentlemen  1  who  drinks  ?" 

In  stature  the  Gallegos  are  low,  stout,  and  clumsy,  as 
different  as  possible  in  form  and  figure  from  the  Spaniards 
in  general,  and  equally  different  in  manners  and  in  dress. 
They  wear  a  little  pointed  cap,  jackets  and  trousers  of 
brown  cloth,  extremely  coarse ;  heavy  shoes,  armed  with 
hob-nails,  and  made  to  last  a  lifetime ;  a  large  leathern 
pocket  in  front  to  receive  their  money,  and  a  pad  of  the 
same  on  the  right  shoulder  to  protect  the  jacket.  They 
are  but  a  rough  set,  and  little  mindful  of  the  courtesies  in 
use  among  their  countrymen.  They  even  take  the  right- 
hand  side  along  the  narrow  walk,  and  never  turn  out  for 
man  or  woman.  One  day  Don  Diego  came  up  to  my  habi- 
tation to  give  the  customary  lesson,  with  his  hat  in  hand, 
endeavouring  to  restore  it  to  shape,  and  cursing  the  Galle- 
go  who  had  run  against  him  at  the  turning  of  a  corner.  He 
had  undertaken  to  lecture  him ;  but  the  Gallego,  putting 
down  his  keg,  and  drawing  himself  up  with  dignity,  said  to 
him,  "  I  am  a  noble  !" — a  thing  not  uncommon  among  his 
countrymen — "  you,  maybe,  are  no  more  ! — Soy  noble  ! 
usted  acaso  no  sera  mas !"  Notwithstanding  their  blunt- 
ness,  however,  they  have  many  good  qualities,  and  are 
trusty  and  faithful  in  a  rare  degree.  They  and  the  Astu- 
rians  act  as  porters  ;  in  which  capacity  they  are  even  em- 
ployed to  deliver  money  and  take  up  notes.  Such  is  the 
unshaken  probity  of  these  rude  sons  of  the  Suevi. 

The  streets  of  Madrid  are  in  general  straight,  and  wider 
than  those  of  most  cities  in  Europe  ;  a  fact  which  is  prob- 


A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  159 

ably  owing  to  its  being  almost  entirely  modern,  and  hav- 
ing been  built  under  royal  patronage.  They  are  all  paved 
with  square  blocks  of  stone,  and  have  sidewalks  about 
four  feet  wide,  and  on  a  level  with  the  rest  of  the  pavement. 
In  order  to  avoid  contention  for  this  narrow  footway,  it  is 
the  custom  always  to  take  the  right  side ;  and  you  may 
thus,  in  a  crowded  street,  notice  two  currents  of  people 
going  in  opposite  directions  without  interfering  with  each 
other.  This  has,  however,  the  inconvenience,  that  a  per- 
son cannot  choose  his  own  gait,  but  must  move  at  the  pace 
of  the  multitude. 

Some  of  the  palaces  of  the  high  nobility  are  built  in  a 
quadrangular  form,  with  a  square  in  the  centre.  The 
dwelling-houses,  however,  are  generally  built  much  in  our 
way,  three  or  four  stories  high,  with  a  door  and  small  entry 
at  one  side,  and  balconies  to  the  upper  windows.  They 
have  rather  a  prison-like  appearance,  for  the  windows  of 
the  first  floor  are  grated  with  bars  of  iron,  while  the  stout 
door  of  wood,  well  studded  with  spike-heads,  has  more  the 
air  of  the  gate  of  a  fortified  town  than  of  the  entrance  to 
the  dwelling  of  a  peaceful  citizen.  The  outer  doors  of  the 
different  suites  of  apartments  indicate  the  same  jealousy  and 
suspicion,  nor  are  they  ever  opened  without  a  parley. 
These  precautions  are  rendered  necessary  by  the  num- 
ber and  boldness  of  the  robbers  in  Madrid,  who  sometimes 
enter  a  house  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  when  the  men  are 
absent,  and,  having  tied  the  female  occupants,  plunder  the 
dwelling  and  make  off  with  their  spoil.  This  is  of  no  un- 
common occurrence  ;  indeed,  I  scarce  became  acquainted 
with  a  person  in  Madrid  who  had  not  been  robbed  one  or' 
more  times.  The  greatest  danger  is,  however,  at  night  in 
the  streets.  I  knew  a  young  man,  a  native  of  Lima,  who 
was  encountered  in  a  narrow  street,  on  his  way  to  an  even- 
ing party,  by  three  men,  and  dragged  by  them  into  the  con- 
cealment of  a  doorway.  One  of  them  held  a  knife  to  his 


160  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

throat,  while  the  two  others  stripped  him  of  his  clothes  and 
finery,  until  nothing  was  left  but  his  shirt  and  boots.  Then 
giving  him  a  slap  on  the  "  trasero,"  and  the  parting  bene- 
diction, "  God  be  with  you,  brother — Vaya  usted  con  Dios 
hermano  !"  they  gathered  the  spoil  under  their  cloaks,  and 
made  off  in  another  direction. 

By  far  the  noblest  building  in  Madrid  is  the  royal  palace, 
built  on  the  same  site  where  formerly  stood  the  old  Moor- 
ish Alcazar.  Philip  V.,  who  caused  it  to  be  erected,  con- 
ceived originally  the  idea  of  a  palace  which  was  to  have 
four  fagades  of  one  thousand  six  hundred  feet  by  one  hun- 
dred high,  with  twenty-three  courts  and  thirty-four  entran- 
ces. A  mahogany  model  of  the  projected  palace  is  still 
shown  in  Madrid,  and  must  of  itself  have  cost  the  price  of 
as  good  a  dwelling  as  any  modest  man  need  wish  for.  This 
palace  was  to  have  lodged  the  royal  body-guard,  the  minis- 
ters, tribunals,  and  indeed  every  thing  connected  with  the 
machine  of  state.  Though  this  stupendous  project  was 
never  realized,  the  present  palace  is,  nevertheless,  every 
way  worthy  of  a  prince  who  was  bom  at  Versailles.  It 
consists  of  a  hollow  square,  four  hundred  and  seventy  feet 
on  the  outside,  and  one  hundred  and  forty  within.  With- 
out is  a  judicious  distribution  of  windows,  cornices,  and  col- 
umns, unencumbered  by  redundant  ornament,  except,  in- 
deed, in  the  heavy  balustrade,  which  crowns  the  whole,  and 
hides  the  leaden  roof  from  view,  while  within  is  a  colon- 
nade and  gallery,  running  entirely  round  the  square.  The 
construction  of  this  palace  is  of  the  noblest  and  most  dura- 
ble kind,  being  without  any  wood,  except  in  the  frame  of 
'the  roof  and  the  doors.,  and  windows.  The  foundation 
stands  entirely  upon  a  system  of  subterranean  arches. 
The  first  floor  is  occupied  by  the  officers  and  servants  of 
the  court.  A  magnificent  staircase  of  marble,  in  the  deco- 
ration of  which  the  architect,  the  sculptor,  and  the  painter 
have  exhausted  their  respective  arts,  leads  to  the  second 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  161 

floor,  which  is  likewise  sustained  upon  arches.  Here  are 
a  second  colonnade  and  gallery,  looking  upon  the  court, 
and  paved  with  marble.  This  is  always  filled  with  groups 
of  body-guards  and  halberdiers  on  service,  and  with  per- 
sons in  court-dresses  waiting  for  an  audience.  This  gal- 
lery opens  upon  the  apartments  of  the  different  members  of 
the  royal  family,  the  chapel,  and  audience-chamber.  Their 
different  ceilings  are  appropriately  painted  by  the  pencil  of 
Mengs,  Bayeux,  Velasquez,  or  Giordano,  while  the  walls 
are  hung  round  with  the  best  productions  of  Rubens,  Titian, 
Murillo,  Velasquez,  and  Spagnoletto.  The  small  oratory 
of  the  king  is  perhaps  the  most  beautiful  apartment  of  the 
palac?.  It  is  adorned  with  rich  and  finely  variegated  mar- 
bles, found  in  the  Peninsula.  A  single  glance  at  them  is 
sufficient  to  convince  one  that  the  marbles  of  Spain  are 
surpassed  by  none  in  the  world.  The  clocks,  furniture, 
tapestry,  beds,  dressing-tables,  and  glasses,  are  in  the  high- 
est style  of  magnificence.  It  will  give  a  sufficient  idea  of 
this  to  mention,  that  in  one  room  there  are  four  mirrors  one 
hundred  and  sixty  two  inches  high  by  ninety-three  wide. 
They  were  made  at  the  royal  manufactory  which  formerly 
existed  in  San  Ildefonso,  and,  with  some  others  cast  in  the 
same  mould,  are  the  largest  known.  This  palace,  whether 
it  be  viewed  with  reference  to  its  architecture  or  decoration, 
is  indeed  a  noble  one.  I  have  heard  it  said,  by  those  who 
had  visited  the  chief  capitals  of  Europe,  that  they  had  seen 
none  superior  to  it ;  and,  though  Versailles  may  excel  in  de- 
tail, as  a  perfect  whole,  the  palace  of  Madrid  may  even 
claim  pre-eminence. 

The  palace  of  Buen  Retiro,  where  the  court  lived  before 
the  completion  of  the  new  palace,  is  at  the  eastern  extrem- 
ity of  Madrid,  and  overlooking  the  Prado.  It  consists  of  a 
variety  of  ancient  and  disjointed  edifices,  rapidly  falling  to 
ruin.  The  progress  of  decay  would  have  been  assisted, 
and  the  whole  pile  long  since  demolished,  were  it  not  for 
14* 


162  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

some  admirable  paintings  in  fresco  which  still  cling  to  the 
mouldering  ceiling,  and  are  in  Giordano's  best  style.  The 
most  remarkable  one  is  allusive  to  the  institution  of  the 
Golden  Fleece,  in  which  Hercules  is  seen  offering  the 
prize  to  Philip  the  Good,  Duke  of  Burgundy.  This  order 
of  knighthood,  which  has  preserved  its  splendour  better 
than  any  other  in  Europe,  has  the  King  of  Spain  for  its 
head,  as  Duke  of  Burgundy,  one  of  the  many  titles  attached 
to  the  crown  since  the  time  of  Charles  V.  In  another  room 
are  some  scenes  from  the  wars  of  Granada.  The  Moors 
are,  of  course,  in  the  attitude  of  the  vanquished.  Horses 
and  riders  are  strewed  upon  the  dust,  while  the  Christian 
knights,  with  Santiago  at  their  head,  are  urging  forward 
with  hearts  as  hard  as  their  own  cuirases. 

The  garden  of  the  Retiro  is  of  great  extent,  but  its  situa- 
tion is  high  and  exposed,  and  the  walks  are  by  no  means 
agreeable.  The  present  family  has  directed  the  different 
improvements,  if  indeed  they  may  be  so  called,  which  are 
in  process  here,  and  perhaps  nowhere  has  there  been  so 
much  labour  expended  and  so  little  produced.  In  one  place 
is  an  artificial  mound,  with  a  Chinese  temple  perched  upon 
it ;  in  another,  a  little  cottage,  with  an  old  woman  of  wood 
sitting  by  a  painted  fire,  and  rocking  her  baby  in  a  cradle  ; 
overhead  are  wooden  hams  and  leathern  sausages,  while  in 
an  adjoining  room  the  good  man  of  the  house  is  ill  and  in 
bed,  with  a  pot  of  soup  beside  him,  and  rises  by  machinery 
when  strangers  enter.  In  another  part  is  an  oblong  lake, 
enclosed  with  a  wall  of  cut  stone  and  a  high  railing  of  iron. 
On  one  side  of  it  is  a  small  building  surmounted  by  naval 
emblems  and  a  flagstaff,  and  beneath  it  a  dock*  or  cove  for 
the  royal  galley.  The  elevation  of  the  Retiro  is  an  obsta- 
cle to  the  bringing  of  water  in  pipes  to  fill  the  lake,  and  the 
object  is  therefore  effected  by  the  labour  of  a  mule,  who 
turns  a  wheel  hard  by,  and  is  hidden  under  a  rustic  shed 
adorned  with  Egyptian  pagods.  Sometimes  the  royal  per- 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  163 

sonages  come  to  take  a  water  excursion  upon  the  lake  ;  the 
basin  is  then  filled,  the  gilded  barge,  which  is  truly  classic 
in  its  construction,  is  floated  to  the  stairs  of  the  navy-yard, 
and  the  august  individuals  enter  and  put  forth,  with  an  air 
of  perfect  contentment  and  unaffected  complacency,  to  the 
great  admiration  of  the  beholders,  evinced  by  waving  of 
hats  and  handkerchiefs;  and,  if  you  happen  to  be  near  the 
wheel-house,  the  creaking  of  the  machinery,  the  "  Arre  !" 
of  the  muleteer,  and  the, grunting  of  the  mule,  furnish  a  suit- 
able musical  accompaniment  of  this  raree  show. 

They  are  likewise  constructing  a  new  house  for  the 
royal  menagerie,  and  it  is  not  a  little  singular  that,  at  a  mo- 
ment when  the  debts  of  interest,  honour,  and  gratitude  are 
left  unpaid,  at  the  very  time  when  money  is  wanting  to  buy 
horses  for  a  train  of  artillery  waiting  to  depart  for  the  frontier 
of  Portugal,  a  considerable  sum  should  be  remitted  to  for- 
eign countries  for  the  purchase  of  wild  beasts.  There  is 
one  thing,  however,  in  the  garden  of  the  Retiro  which  any 
man  may  admire  ;  a  bronze  statue  of  Philip  IV.,  cast  by 
Taca,  a  Florentine  sculptor,  after  a  painting  of  Velasquez. 
Though  the  figures  are  four  times  as  large  as  life,  and  the 
enormous  mass,  weighing  no  less  than  nine  tons,  is  sup- 
ported on  the  horse's  two  hind  feet,  yet  the  beholder  is  not 
.struck  with  astonishment ;  for  there  is  a  harmony  in  the 
parts  and  perfection  in  the  whole,  that  prevent  it  from  ap- 
pearing cumbrous  or  unwieldy.  This  beautiful  Colossus 
.stands  in  an  elevated  situation  of  the  Retiro,  and  looks  the 
modern  gewgaws  into  insignificance.  And  yet  the  prince, 
thus  immortalized  by  the  hand  of  genius,  was  even  less 
than  an  ordinary  man.  He  never  did  any  thing  to  promote 
the  interests  and  add  to  the  honour  of  human  nature  ;  was 
imbecile  in  character,  and  mean  in  appearance.  What 
American  can  reflect  on  this,  and  remember  without  shame 
that,  in  a  country  where  men  possess  great  wealth  and  the 
•freedom  of  doing  with  it  what  they  please,  there  should  be 


164  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

no  disposition  thus  to  commemorate  the  brightest  virtues 
and  the  most  exalted  services  ? 

The  Casino  is  a  mimic  palace,  on  the  scale  of  a  private 
dwelling,  situated  in  a  populous  part  of  the  city,  and  decorated 
with  taste  and  elegance.  The  last  queen  took  great  delight 
in  this  little  retirement,  and  spent  much  of  her  time  there  ; 
but  since  her  death  it  is  rarely  visited  by  any  of  the  family. 
The  Casa  del  Campo  is  another  royal  mansion,  which 
stands  low  in  the  valley  of  the  Manzanares,  and  directly  in 
front  of  the  palace.  Its  gardens  offer  shade  and  seclusion, 
but  their  chief  ornament  is  a  bronze  statue  of  Philip  III.,  the 
joint  work  of  Bolonia  and  Taca,  which,  though  weighing 
twelve  thousand  pounds,  was  sent  from  Florence  as  a  pres- 
ent from  Cosmo  de  Medicis.  In  its  present  situation  it  is 
scarcely  ever  seen,  and  there  are  doubtless  many  persons 
in  Madrid  who  are  ignorant  of  its  existence.  There  is  yet 
a  fifth  royal  mansion  in  the  environs  of  Madrid,  standing 
upon  a  hill,  and  overlooking  the  valley  of  the  Manzanares 
and  the  grove  of  the  Florida. 

Although  Madrid  contains  in  all  near  one  hundred  and 
fifty  places  of  worship,  yet  it  cannot  boast  a  single  one  of 
superior  magnificence.  In  those  days  when  most  of  the 
Gothic  cathedrals  which  we  meet  with  in  the  older  Euro- 
pean cities  were  erected,  Madrid  was  but  an  inconsiderable 
place.  Even  now,  though  the  political  capital  of  Spain,  it 
still  belongs  to  the  diocess  of  Toledo,  and  is  not  so  much 
as  the  see  of  a  suffragan.  Most  of  the  churches  are  small, 
of  mixed  Grecian  architecture,  and  many,  in  their  exterior 
appearance,  are  hardly  distinguishable  from  the  dwelling- 
houses  which  surround  them.  The  interior,  however,  is 
usually  decorated  with  much  architectural  ornament,  and 
withj.a  profusion  of  paintings  and  statues.  The  Jesuits 
have  by  far  the  largest  and  most  imposing  church  in  Mad- 
rid. This  order  is  the  most  enlightened  of  the  Spanish 
clergy,  and  I  took  much  pleasure  in  going  to  hear  them 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  165 

preach,  especially  during  the  Carnival.  As  it  was  the  win- 
ter season,  the  pavement  was  covered  with  mats,  upon 
which  the  multitude  kneeled  during  the  exhibition  of  the 
host.  When  the  invocation  was  over,  and  the  sermon  com- 
menced, the  women  assumed  a  less  painful  and  more  inter- 
esting posture,  sitting  back  on  the  mats  with  their  feet 
drawn  up  beside  them.  If  pretty,  as  was  generally  the 
case,  one  foot  was  allowed  to  peep  out  from  beneath  the 
rjasquina,  presenting  itself  in  its  neat  thread  or  silken  stock- 
ing, and  little  shoe  of  prunello,  in  the  most  favourable  posi- 
tion for  display.  The  men  stood  intermingled  with  the 
women,  or  apart  in  the  aisles  and  chapels,  or  reclined 
against  the  columns,,  making  altogether  a  very  singular 
scene,  not  a  little  augmented  in  interest  by  the  deep  obscu- 
rity, approaching  indeed  to  darkness,  which  generally  pre- 
vails within  the  walls  of  the  churches. 

Some  of  the  preachers  were  very  eloquent,  and  the 
strong  yet  graceful  language  in  which  they  spoke  gave 
additional  force  and  beauty  to  every  happy  sentiment.  By 
far  the  greatest  treat,  however,  is  the  music  performed  on 
these  occasions ;  nowhere,  indeed,  perhaps  not  even  in 
Italy,  is  the  luxury  of  church  music  carried  to  a  greater  ex- 
tent than  in  Madrid.  The  organs  are  played  in  perfection  ; 
and,  in  order  to  procure  fine  tenor  voices,  a  practice  is  still 
continued  here  which  has  been  abolished  in  Italy  since  the 
domination  of  Napoleon.  In  the  Musical  College  of  Madrid, 
the  mutilated  victims  of  parental  avarice  are  received  at  an 
early  age,  and  their  voices  carefully  cultivated.  Some  are  ad- 
mitted to  holy  orders,  evading  the  strict  canon  of  the  church, 
which  requires  physical  perfection  in  its  ministers,  by  a 
most  whimsical  artifice.  Others  earn  their  bread  easily  as 
public  singers,  living  in  the  world,  or  rather  enjoying  a 
negative  existence,  readily  recognised  by  the  unnatural 
shrillness  of  their  tones,  and  by  the  heavy  expression  of 
their  beardless,  elongated,  and  unmanly  visages.  One  or 


166  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

two  of  these  miserable  beings  are  employed  in  the  choir  of 
the  royal  chapel.  The  maintenance  of  worship  in  this  es- 
tablishment costs  Spain  annually  one  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars, no  small  part  of  which  is  for  singers  and  musicians, 
A  solemn  mass  witnessed  in  this  chapel  is  indeed  one  of 
the  greatest  treats  in  the  world.  The  structure  is  of  octag- 
onal form,  and  surmounted  by  a  dome,  not  dissimilar,  nor 
altogether  unworthy  of  being  compared,  to  the  Dome  of  the 
Invalides.  Here  architecture,  statuary,  and  painting  have 
lavished  all  their  beauties  in  a  narrow  compass  ;  the  organ, 
with  a  choice  selection  of  bassoons  and  viols,  and  the  full 
choir,  are  placed  in  a  hidden  recess  beside  the  dome ; 
whence  the  music  follows  the  sacrifice,  through  all  the 
sad  symbols  of  the  Saviour's  Passion ;  and  when  the  ex- 
piation is  made,  and  man  is  reconciled  to  his  Maker,  the 
circling  concave  rings  with  exulting  peals,  which  the  en- 
tranced listener  is  almost  ready  to  ascribe  to  the  hosts  of 
angels  which  he  sees  in  the  hollow  hemisphere  above,  sur- 
rounding the  throne  of  the  Eternal. 

The  museum  of  statuary  and  painting  at  the  Prado  is  a 
modern  and  admirably  contrived  building,  which  extends 
its  front  along  the  public  walk,  and  adds  greatly  to  its  ele- 
gance. No  edifice  could  be  better  adapted  to  the  exhibi- 
tion of  paintings  than  this,  which  was  commenced  under 
Charles  III.,  with  an  express  view  to  its  present  object. 
The  collection  of  paintings  in  the  Prado  was  made  in  the 
better  days  of  the  Spanish  monarchy,  when  the  gold  of 
America  could  command  the  presence  and  services  of  liv- 
ing artists,  and  purchase  the  productions  of  such  as  were 
dead.  It  is  said,  in  the  illustrious  names  of  the  contribu- 
tors and  the  excellence  of  the  pieces,  to  be  inferior  to  no 
other;  and  when  the  additions  which  are  now  making 
from  the  different  royal  palaces  shall  be  completed,  it  will 
probably  be  the  first  in  the  world.  To  give  an  idea  of  the 
Italian  school,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  name  some  of  those 


A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  167 

great  men  who  are  here  represented  by  their  finest  produc- 
tions. Such  are  Guercino,  Tintoreto,  Poussin,  Anibal  and 
Augustine  Carracci,  Guido  Reni,  Luca  Giordano,  Leonardo 
da  Vinci,  Paul  Veronese,  Michael  Angelo,  the  head  of  the 
Florentine  school ;  Titian,  the  prince  of  Venetian  painters, 
and  Raphael  of  Urbino,  the  great  father  of  all,  who  is  here 
represented  by  his  painting  of  Christ  carrying  the  Cross, 
which  is  esteemed  second  to  nothing  but  the  Transfigura- 
tion. It  was  originally  painted  on  wood,  but  with  the  lapse 
of  three  centuries  the  wood  became  rotten,  and  there  was 
a  danger  of  its  being  entirely  lost.  This  was  of  course 
among  the  immense  number  of  paintings  carried  away  to 
Paris  by  the  French ;  it  was  likewise  among  the  smaller 
number  of  those  which  returned  after  the  final  overthrow 
of  Napoleon.  In  this  case  the  voyage  was  a  serviceable 
one ;  for  the  French  artists  were  so  fortunate  as  to  suc- 
ceed in  transferring  the  painted  surface  from  the  wood  to 
canvass,  and  have  thus  saved  it  from  premature  destruction. 

Nor  are  the  Flemish  masters  without  their  representa- 
tives in  the  Prado.  It  is  there,  however,  that  one  may 
study  and  appreciate  the  Spanish  school,  which  had  scarce 
been  known  in  Europe  until  the  invading  armies  of  Na- 
poleon carried  off  some  of  the  best  pieces  to  constitute  the 
brightest  ornaments  of  the  Louvre,  and  to  form  several  pri- 
vate collections.  Witness  the  undisgorged  plunder  of  the 
Duke  of  Dalmatia, 

The  Spanish  school  is  chiefly  celebrated  among  painters 
for  perfection  of  perspective  and  design,  and  the  vivid  and 
natural  carnation  of  its  colouring.  One  of  the  first  painters 
who  became  celebrated  in  Spain  was  Morales,  who  began 
his  career  about  the  time  that  Raphael's  was  so  prematurely 
closed,  in  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and 
whose  heads  of  Christ  have  merited  for  him  the  surname  of 
Divine.  Morales  was  a  native  of  Estremaduxa,  but  the  art 
iu  which  he  so  greatly  excelled  made  more  rapid  progress 


168  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

in  the  city  of  Valencia,  where  a  kindly  soil  and  kindlier 
sky  seem  to  invite  perfection.  Juan  de  Juanes  is  consid- 
ered the  father  of  the  Valencian  school,  which  in  the  be- 
ginning was  in  imitation  of  the  Italian,  but  which  afterward 
assimilated  itself  to  the  Flemish,  and  to  the  manner  of 
Rembrandt  and  Vandyke,  until,  under  the  name  of  the 
school  of  Seville,  the  Spanish  painters  had  acquired  a  dis- 
tinctive character. 

Under  Ribera,  better  known  at  home  and  abroad  by  the 
singular  surname  of  Espanoleto,  the  Valencian  school  at- 
tained the  highest  perfection.  The  subjects  of  Espanoleto 
are  chiefly  Bible  scenes,  taken  indifferently  from  the  Old 
or  New  Testament ;  but  his  most  successful  efforts  have 
been  the  delineation  of  scenes  of  suffering  and  sorrow,  such 
as  are  abundantly  furnished  by  the  lives  of  our  Saviour  and 
the  saints.  In  describing  the  extremes  of  human  misery, 
a  macerated  wretch,  reclining  upon  a  bed  of  straw  in  the 
last  agony  of  starvation  or  infirmity,  he  is  perhaps  unequal- 
led ;  and  he  has  been  able  to  give  such  a  relief  to  the  per- 
spective, such  a  reality  to  the  colouring,  that  the  deception, 
at  a  first  glance,  is  often  irresistible.  Indeed,  my  memory 
became  so  strongly  impressed  with  some  of  his  pieces, 
that  I  can  still  call  them  up  at  will  in  all  their  excellence ; 
he  was,  however,  a  gloomy  painter,  giving  to  his  works 
the  sad  colouring  which  he  borrowed  from  the  religion  of 
his  day ;  a  religion  which  was  fond  of  calling  up  reflec- 
tions of  despondency,  and  thinking  only  of  Christ  as  the 
bleeding  and  the  crucified. 

Another  great  painter,  who,  like  Espanoleto,  flourished 
at  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  was  Diego 
Velasquez.  Velasquez  is  sometimes  an  imitator  of  his 
great  contemporary ;  at  others,  his  style  is  materially  differ- 
ent, and  he  is  generally  allowed  to  be  superior  to  Espano- 
leto in  correctness  of  design  and  fertility  of  invention.  His 
portraits,  for  furnishing  accurate  representations  of  individ- 


A   TEAR   IN    SPAIN.  169 

tials,  are  perhaps  superior  to  those  of  Titian  and  Vandyke  ; 
they  are  not,  indeed,  highly  wrought,  but  have  about  them 
the  strong  strokes  of  a  master. 

Bartholomew  Murillo,  who,  like  Velasquez,  was  born  in 
Seville,  studied  at  Madrid  under  the  direction  of  his  coun- 
tryman, and  never  travelled  out  of  Spain.  There  is  in  his 
manner  all  the  correctness  of  Velasquez,  all  his  truth  to 
nature,  which  he  seems  to  have  studied  thoroughly,  and  at 
the  same  time  a  more  perfect  finish,  and  a  warmth  and  brill- 
iancy of  colouring  to  which  the  pencil  of  Velasquez  was  a 
stranger.  Nothing  indeed  can  be  so  true  and  palpable  as 
Murillo's  scenes  of  familiar  life,  nothing  so  sweet  and  heav- 
enly as  his  Virgins.  Murillo  brought  the  school  of  Seville, 
or  more  properly  of  Spain,  to  the  height  of  its  glory.  He 
seems  to  have  combined  the  excellences  of  Vandyke  and 
Titian,  the  truth  of  the  one  and  the  warm  carnation  of  the 
other ;  and  though  Raphael  be  looked  on  by  painters  and 
connoisseurs  as  the  most  perfect  of  known  artists,  yet,  if  the 
chief  excellence  of  the  imitative  art  consist  in  showing  na- 
ture, not  as  it  ought  to  be,  but  as  it  is,  and  in  producing 
momentary  deception,  this  excellence  belongs  to  none  so 
entirely  as  to  Murillo. 

The  decline  of  painting  throughout  Europe  during  the 
past  century  has  likewise  extended  itself  to  Spain,  with, 
however,  some  honourable  exceptions,  such  as  Bayeu  in 
the  past  century,  and  Maella  and  Lopez  in  the  present ;  the 
last  being  a  living  artist,  whose  portraits  are  admirable. 

The  cabinet  of  natural  history  stands  beside  the  stately 
edifice  of  the  Aduana,  or  custom-house,  and  with  it  consti- 
tutes one  of  the  principal  ornaments  of  the  noble  street  of 
Alcala.  Here  is  a  fine  collection  of  birds,  quadrupeds,  and 
fishes,  arranged  in  elegant  cases  of  plate-glass  and  mahog- 
any. The  collection  of  minerals  is,  however,  the  most 
perfect,  especially  in  whatever  relates  to  the  precious  met- 
als, so  abundantly  found  in  the  former  possessions  of 

VOL.  I.— H  15 


170  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

Spain.  There  is  also  a  small  cabinet  of  marbles,  brought 
from  every  corner  of  the  Peninsula,  and  which  can  scarcely 
be  surpassed  for  variety  and  beauty.  The  cabinet  of  natu- 
ral history  is  open  twice  a  week  to  the  visits  of  the  public  ; 
and  the  learned  and  ignorant  may  then  pass  in  review  the 
whole  realm  of  nature,  compare  the  narrow  shades  of  dis- 
tinction between  those  animals  that  are  most  similar,  and 
then  admire  the  immense  disparity  between  the  extremes 
of  creation. 

In  the  same  building  are  the  school,  library,  and  museum 
of  San  Fernando,  where  the  three  noble  arts,  painting,  stat- 
uary, and  architecture,  are  taught  gratuitously.  In  the 
academy  of  San  Fernando  excellent  masters  are  provided, 
who  superintend  the  labours  of  such  persons,  whether  chil- 
dren or  adults,  as  choose  to  turn  their  attention  to  either 
of  these  arts  ;  and,  by  a  happy  arrangement,  the  school  is 
only  opened  in  the  evening,  when  the  ordinary  studies  or 
labours  of  the  day  are  over.  Here  I  have  often  spent  an 
hour  in  passing  through  the  different  rooms  of  the  school. 
In  one,  the  beginners  were  occupied  in  their  first  rude  at- 
tempts to  copy  engravings,  or  to  imitate  the  foot  or  hand  of 
a  broken  statue.  In  another,  the  more  advanced  pupils 
were  arranged  at  a  circular  desk  round  a  plaster  cast  of  the 
Apollo  or  the  Laocoon,  representing  it  in  the  attitude  it 
presented  itself  to  each,  either  on  paper  or  on  a  board, 
with  clay  to  form  a  relief;  while  in  the  last  apartment  one 
or  more  living  subjects  were  standing  or  sitting  in  some 
particular  attitude.  I  more  than  once  found  a  finely-form- 
ed fellow  standing  under  the  shade,  which  was  made  to 
throw  a  gloomy  desponding  light  upon  him,  with  his  head 
reclining  on  one  side,  and  his  hands  extended  to  the  ex- 
tremities of  a  cross.  This  posture  he  would  maintain 
without  moving  a  muscle  for  minutes  together-  The  fellow, 
however,  was'  not  much  to  be  pitied,  as  he  must,  of  course, 
have  preferred  this  passive  sort  of  labour  to  the  more  active 


A   TEAR   IN    SPAIN.  171 

exertions  for  which  he  was  so  well  qualified  by  a  powerful 
conformation.  Every  three  years  premiums  are  distributed 
to  such  of  the  students  as  are  most  distinguished  ;  and  when 
a  young  man  of  great  promise  is  discovered,  he  is  sent  to 
Rome  to  study  at  the  public  expense. 

Lectures  on  descriptive  geometry  are  given  in  the  acad- 
emy for  the  advantage  of  the  students,  and  there  is  like- 
wise a  library,  which,  besides  a  general  collection  of  books, 
is  very  rich  in  such  as  relate  to  the  arts.  The  most  re- 
markable part  of  the  institution,  however,  is  a  museum  of 
paintings,  intended  as  a  study  for  the  scholars,  and  which 
contains  some  of  the  finest  in  Spain.  The  stolen  benedic- 
tion of  Jacob  by  his  father  Isaac  is  the  most  perfect  thing 
I  have  seen  from  the  pencil  of  Espanoleto  ;  and  in  a  private 
room,  which  is  seldom  shown  to  any  one,  are  some  inter- 
dicted paintings  of  singular  merit.  Here  one  is  surprised 
to  see  a  full-length  portrait  of  Napoleon  in  his  imperial 
robes,  a  copy  of  the  celebrated  portrait  of  Gerard,  which 
the  emperor  sent  to  Madrid  at  the  time  he  was  alluring 
the  royal  family  to  Bayonne.  There  are  likewise  some 
naked  beauties  by  Rubens,  water-nymphs  closely  pursued 
by  greedy  satyrs,  whose  ill-made  legs  and  clumsy  ankles 
are  perfect  prototypes  of  his  own  Dutch  models.  Such  is 
not  the  case  with  the  blooming  mistress  of  King  Philip  II., 
whom  Titian  has  represented  with  so  much  truth  of  design 
and  reality  of  carnation,  as  to  bring  the  beauty  and  the 
spectator  into  the  presence  of  each  other.  But  he  is  not 
admitted  to  the  privilege  of  a  tete-a-tete  ;  for  on  the  foot 
of  the  silken  couch  upon  which  she  reclines,  half  sleepy, 
half  voluptuous,  sits  young  Philip  playing  on  a  piano.  His 
head  is  turned  to  gaze  upon  the  unveiled  charms  of  the 
beautiful  creature  behind  him ;  his  thoughts  seem  to  wan- 
der from  the  music,  and  his  fingers  are  about  to  abandon 
the  keys  of  the  instrument.  That  a  very  young  man  should 
havo  been  willing  to  place  himself  in  such  a  situation,  is 
II  3 


172  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

not  incredible  ;  but  that  he  should  have  been  willing  to  be 
seen  in  it,  and  even  thus  to  appear  before  posterity,  is  a 
thing  of  more  difficult  reconciliation.  This,  too,  was  the 
prince  who  afterward  became  so  bigoted  and  so  blood- 
thirsty, and  though  not  the  murderer  of  his  own  son,  at 
least  the  persecutor,  and  it  may  be  the  destroyer,  of  his 
brave  brother,  Don  Juan  of  Austria.  The  most  remarkable 
painting,  however,  of  this  collection,  is  Murillo's  picture  of 
Saint  Isabel,  the  good  queen  of  Hungary,  so  celebrated  in 
regal  annals  for  benevolence  and  charity.  She  is  rep- 
resented washing  the  sore  of  a  beggar.  At  one  side  is 
an  old  man  binding  his  leg,  whom  one  might  almost  fancy 
living  ;  on  the  other,  a  ragged  boy  scratching  his  head, 
with  his  face  screwed  up  into  a  whimsical  expression  of 
pain.  The  subject  of  this  painting  is  disgusting  enough. 
It  will,  however,  offend  less  if  it  be  remembered  that  Mu- 
rillo  painted  it  in  Seville,  to  hang  in  the  Hospital  of  Char- 
ity. It  is,  perhaps,  the  most  perfect  imitation  of  life  which 
exists  on  canvass. 

The  academy  of  San  Fernando  deliberates  on  the  plans 
of  all  public  buildings  proposed  to  be  erected ;  a  censor- 
ship, whose  good  effects  are  evident  in  all  the  fine  monu- 
ments with  which  Charles  III.  has  ennobled  the  capital. 
Institutions  similar  to  this,  and  which,  like  it,  bear  the  name 
of  San  Fernando,  are  found,  since  the  time  of  the  same  be- 
neficent monarch,  in  all  the  larger  cities  of  Spain ;  and, 
though  checked  and  counteracted  by  a  hundred  obstacles, 
their  effect  cannot  be  other  than  beneficial  to  national  in- 
dustry. There  is,  indeed,  scarce  a  station  in  life  in  which 
a  knowledge  of  design  may  not  be  turned  to  good  account. 
The  builder  will  make  a  handsomer  house,  the  cabinet  and 
coach-maker  will  turn  out  more  elegant  furniture  and  equi- 
pages, and  even  the  tailor  will  cut  a  neater  coat,  from  pos- 
sessing the  principles  of  the  art.  As  for  men  of  leisure, 
their  perception  of  beauty,  whether  it  exists  in  the  produc- 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  173 

tions  of  art  or  nature,  must  by  it  be  sharpened  and  devel- 
oped, and  new  avenues  thus  opened  to  pleasure  and  happi- 
ness. One  would  think  that  no  great  city,  which  has  an 
eye  to  the  advancement  of  industry  within  its  walls,  should 
be  without  an  institution  like  this  of  San  Fernando. 

Another  museum  is  that  of  artillery,  which  contains  a 
large  collection  of  models  of  gunpowder  manufactories,  can- 
non foundries,  and  of  all  such  machines  and  weapons  as 
are  useful  in  warfare.  The  most  remarkable  objects  to  be 
seen  here  are  models  of  the  fortresses  of  Cadiz,  Cartha- 
gena,  and  Gibraltar,  made  of  clay,  and  coloured  to  imitate 
more  closely  the  reality.  The  scale  of  these  models  is  so 
large  that  all  the  streets  and  public  buildings  are  laid  down 
in  them,  and  perhaps  a  better  idea  may  be  formed  of  the 
whole  of  one  of  these  places  from  looking  down  upon  the 
model,  than  from  any  single  view  that  could  be  caught  of 
the  place  itself.  Gibraltar  is  so  accurately  represented,  that 
the  plan  of  an  attack  could  be  as  well  or  better  devised  at 
Madrid  than  before  the  fortress,  by  a  general  who  should  be 
without  such  assistance. 

The  museum  of  the  armory,  in  front  of  the  royal  palace, 
is  of  a  similar  but  far  more  interesting  character,  at  least  in 
the  eye  of  poetry ;  for  in  it  are  arranged  the  armour  of  all 
the  illustrious  warriors  which  Spain  has  produced,  of  many 
whom  she  has  conquered,  and  a  variety  of  trophies,  arms, 
and  banners  which  have  been  won  in  battle.  On  entering 
the  hall,  you  first  see,  without  knowing  why,  the  funeral 
litters,  in  which  the  remains  of  Charles  IV.  and  his  queen 
were  brought  from  Rome  to  be  interred  in  the  Escurial. 
Here  is  likewise  the  coach  of  Joanna  the  Foolish,  which 
was  the  first  used  in  Spain  since  the  fall  of  the  Roman  dom- 
ination. It  is  oddly  carved  and  fashioned  ;  not  much  more 
so,  however,  than  some  that  are  still  seen  of  a  feast-day  on 
the  Prado.  Near  this  is  the  litter  in  which  Charles  V. 
used  to  make  his  journeys  and  excursions  It  was  carried 

15* 


174  A  YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

like  a  sedan  chair  by  two  horses,  one  going  before  and  the 
other  behind,  between  shafts  which  were  supported  on  their 
backs.  Before  the  seat  within  is  a  moveable  desk,  which 
could  be  adjusted  in  front  of  the  occupant.  Here  the  em- 
peror transacted  business  as  he  travelled,  in  order  to  econ- 
omize time,  so  valuable  to  one  who  took  care  of  the  affairs 
and  bore  the  burdens  of  so  many  people.  The  remainder 
of  the  large  hall  is  full  of  armour,  either  hung  in  detached 
pieces  against  the  wall,  or  arranged  collectively  in  standing 
postures,  or  mounted  on  wooden  horses. 

Among  the  antiques  are  many  shields  and  helmets,  cu- 
riously and  beautifully  worked  into  relief,  representing  land 
and  sea  engagements,  charges  of  cavalry  and  contending 
galleys.  There  is  one  helmet,  however,  of  more  than  or- 
dinary beauty,  worthy  in  all  respects  to  have  covered  the 
head  of  Julius  Cesar,  to  whom  it  is  said  to  have  belonged. 
In  answer  to  all  my  inquiries  concerning  the  way  in  which 
this  precious  piece  of  antiquity  came  into  the  possession  of 
his  Catholic  Majesty,  I  could  get  nothing  but  "  Es  de  Julio 
Cesar  y  no  hay  mas — It's  Julius  Cesar's,  and  that's  an  end 
of  it."  There  is  likewise  a  shield  of  one  of  the  Scipios. 
The  armour  of  the  Cid  has  nothing  remarkable  about  it  be- 
yond the  circumstance  of  having  once  been  his.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  the  suit  of  Guzman  the  Good,  the  royal  gov- 
ernor of  Tarifa,  so  celebrated  in  the  annals  of  Andalusian 
chivalry .  At  the  extremity  of  the  room  is  a  chapel  of  Saint 
Ferdinand,  the  conqueror  of  Cordova  and  Seville,  the  saint- 
ed king,  of  whom  it  was  disputed  whether  he  was  most  dis- 
tinguished for  valour,  or  piety,  or  good  fortune.  The  ar- 
mour of  the  saint  is  so  arranged  that  he  seems  seated  on  a 
throne  in  his  proper  person,  having  on  the  left  side  his  good 
sword,  and  on  the  right  a  list  of  the  indulgences  which  the 
father  of  the  church  grants  to  such  as  shall  there  say  a 
Pater  or  an  Ave. 

In  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  stations  is  the  suit  of  ar- 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  175 

mour  usually  worn  by  Ferdinand  the  Catholic  ;  who  is 
seated  upon  his  war-horse,  with  a  pair  of  red  velvet 
breeches,  after  the  manner  of  the  Moors,  with  lifted  lance 
and  closed  visor.  There  are  several  other  suits  of  Ferdi- 
nand, and  of  his  queen  Isabella,  who  was  no  stranger  to  the 
dangers  of  a  battle.  By  the  comparative  heights  of  their 
armour,'  Isabella  would  seem  to  be  the  larger  of  the  two,  as 
she  certainly  was  the  better.  Opposite  to  these  is  the  ar- 
mour of  Abou-Abdallah,  or  Boabdil,  whom  the  Spaniards 
have  surnamed  Chico,  the  last  of  the  Grenadian  kings,  and 
who  was  by  turns  the  friend,  the  enemy,  and  the  captive  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  His  armour  is  of  beautiful  finish, 
in  all  respects  like  the  other  suits,  except  that  the  helmet, 
instead  of  being  in  the  form  of  a  Grecian  casque  with  a 
visor,  having  apertures  in  it,  to  close  down  from  above,  is 
made  of  a  solid  piece,  of  great  thickness  in  front,  and 
screws  upon  the  cuiras.  Instead  of  sight-holes  in  front, 
it  has  a  broad  gap,  like  a  skylight,  running  across  the  top 
above  the  eyes,  the  lower  part  overlapping  so  as  to  keep 
out  the  point  of  a  lance.  On  the  right  side  is  a  small  win- 
dow, which  swings  upon  hinges,  and  is  fastened  with  a 
steel  button.  This  may  have  served  to  take  in  refreshment, 
or  for  the  purpose  of  a  parley.  I  was  at  a  loss  to  conceive 
what  could  have  been  the  object  of  this  unwieldy  head-fur- 
niture, and  the  explanation  of  the  keeper  was  not  very  sat- 
isfactory. According  to  his  account,  it  was  to  protect  the 
head  against  the  iron  maces  used  in  duels.  It  is,  perhaps, 
as  likely  that  casques  such  as  this  were  used  in  the  tilting- 
matches  and  tournaments  so  frequent  among  the  Grenadian 
chivalry,  as  offering  more  effectual  resistance  to  a  splintered 
reed  or  the  point  of  a  lance  than  the  visor  of  a  common 
helmet.  Though  a  cavalier  might  be  safer  from  harm  with 
this  box  upon  his  head,  he  would  be  less  fitted  for  action  ; 
for  it  could  not  have  weighed  less  than  twenty  pounds.  If 
he  should  fall  from  his  horse  thus  accoutred,  he  would 


176  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

never  be  able  to  stir ;  but  must  lie  and  be  trampled  upon  by 
friendly  and  hostile  feet,  like  poor  Sancho  sweating  between 
two  shields.  I  was  generally  struck  with  the  great  weight 
of  these  suits  of  armour,  and  saw  in  it  an  explanation  of 
instances  that  more  than  once  occurred  in  the  Spanish  wars, 
of  valiant  princes  falling  from  their  horses  and  fainting  to 
death  upon  the  field  of  battle. 

Gonsalo  Fernandez  of  Cordova,  and  Hernan  Cortez,  stand 
forth  in  full  array.  The  armour  of  Philip  I.,  surnamed  the 
Handsome,  shows  him  to  have  been  a  giant,  certainly  not 
less  than  six  and  a  half  feet  high ;  nor  could  Charles  V. 
have  been  less  than  six  feet.  There  are  many  splendid 
suits,  which  the  great  emperor  received  from  foreign  princes 
and  from  the  cities  of  his  vast  empire.  Philip  II.,  too, 
though  he  never  came  within  reach  of  a  blow,  was  no  less 
abundantly  supplied  than  his  father  with  the  means  of  ward- 
ing one  off.  The  helmet  of  one  of  his  suits  is  covered 
with  a  variety  of  figures,  so  beautifully  executed  as  to  com- 
pare with  those  on  the  antique  shields  and  helmets.  Be- 
side the  suits  of  his  father  and  brothers,  is  the  giant  armour 
of  Don  Juan  of  Austria,  the  natural  son  of  Charles  V.  and 
the  hero  of  Lepanto;  a  victory  the  news  of  which  was  re- 
ceived with  unbounded  joy  throughout  Christendom,  and  on 
hearing  which  Pope  Pius  V.  is  said  to  have  exclaimed  in 
a  holy  ecstasy,  "  There  was  a  man  sent  from  God,  and  his 
name  was  John !"  It  is  of  Lepanto,  too,  that  Cervantes 
speaks,  when,  on  being  reproached  by  a  literary  rival,  he 
breaks  forth  in  this  noble  strain.  "  What  I  cannot  help 
feeling  deeply  is,  that  I  am  stigmatized  with  being  old  and 
maimed — as  though  it  belonged  to  me  to  stay  the  course  of 
time  ;  or  as  though  my  wounds  had  been  received  in  some 
tavern  broil,  instead  of  the  most  lofty  occasion  which  past 
ages  have  yet  witnessed,  or  which  shall  ever  be  witnessed 
by  those  which  are  to  come.  The  scars  which  the  soldier 
wears  upon  his  person,  instead  of  badges  of  infamy,  ar? 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN,  177 

stars  to  guide  the  daring  in  the  path  of  glory  As  for  mine, 
though  they  may  not  shine  in  the  eyes  of  the  envious,  they 
are  at  least  esteemed  by  those  who  know  where  they  were 
received.  And  even,  were  it  not  yet  too  late  to  choose,  I 
would  rather  remain  as  I  am,  maimed  and  mutilated,  than 
be  now  whole  of  my  wounds,  without  having  taken  part  in 
so  glorious  an  achievement."  I  looked  in  vain  for  the  ar- 
inour  of  the  poet-warrior. 

Such  are  some  of  the  suits  of  armour  arranged  in  stand- 
ing attitudes  around  the  hall ;  and  in  which  one  may  al- 
most fancy  that  he  sees  the  cavaliers  they  once  enclosed, 
still  keeping  guard  over  their  trophies.  In  the  middle  of 
the  room  are  a  variety  of  weapons,  ancient  and  modern ; 
among  them  an  old  machine,  mounted  like  a  field-piece, 
which  was  used  to  project  iron  balls,  upon  the  principles 
of  a  crossbow.  On  each  side  of  the  shrine  of  Saint  Fer- 
dinand are  glass  cases,  containing  a  variety  of  cimeters 
and  fire-arms,  the  handles  of  which  are  profusely  inlaid 
with  gold  and  precious  stones  ;  these,  with  some  splendid 
housings,  the  bits  and  broad  stirrups  of  which  are  of  gold 
or  silver,  came  as  a  present  from  the  Turkish  sultan.  It 
is  a  singular  instance  of  the  changing  destinies  of  nations, 
that  mention  should  be  found  in  the  Arabic  historians  of 
the  Calif  of  Spain  receiving  rich  presents  some  eight  cen- 
turies before  from  the  Christian  emperor  of  Constantinople. 

In  these  are  also  the  swords  of  the  Cid,  of  Guzman, 
Gonsalo,  and  Cortez ;  all  straight,  long,  and  two-edged, 
with  plain  scabbards  of  red  velvet,  and  hilts  in  the  shape 
of  a  cross.  Thus  armed,  a  cavalier  carried  with  him  at 
once  the  emblem  of  his  faith  and  the  instrument  of  his 
valour ;  and,  if  mortally  wounded  on  the  field  of  battle,  he 
could,  like  Bayard,  kneel  and  pray  before  the  emblem  of 
the  crucifixion.  Here  are  likewise  some  swords  of  im- 
mense length,  made  at  Rome,  and  consecrated  by  the  pope, 
who  sent  them  to  be  used  in  the  crusades  against  the  Sara- 
H  3 


178  A    TEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

cens.  In  those  wars  of  the  faith,  they  were  borne  by  bish- 
ops in  the  midst  of  the  array,  together  with  the  bones  of 
a  saint,  or  some  favoured  statue  of  the  Virgin ;  thus  sus- 
tained, the  Christians  were  sure  to  conquer,  for  they  carried 
with  them  the  pledges  of  victory.  Overhead  hang  the  ban- 
ners taken  in  battle ;  a  great  number  have  been  removed, 
with  the  sword  worn  by  Francis  at  Pavia ;  but  many  still 
remain,  and  the  whole  hall  is  surrounded  by  large  leathern 
Bhields,  taken  from  the  Turks  at  Lepanto. 

The  Cabinet  of  Armory  furnishes  a  great  historical  rec- 
ord, in  which  the  Spaniard  may  come  and  read  of  the  bet- 
ter days  of  his  country,  and,  amid  these  pledges  of  departed 
greatness,  lose  sight  of  her  present  degeneracy.  Here  the 
Cid  still  stands  forth  the  unequalled  cavalier ;  Ferdinand 
frowns  upon  Boabdil  ;  Cortes  strikes  terror  into  the  trem- 
bling Montezuma,  whose  feathery  armour  still  flutters  to 
the  breeze,  while  Don  Juan  of  Austria  may  see  around  him 
the  three  tails  and  the  bloody  turban  of  the  Pacha  Ali, 
whom  he  slew,  with  five  and  twenty  thousand  of  his  follow- 
ers, in  the  bloody  battle  of  Lepanto. 

There  is  a  vast  number  of  charitable  institutions  in 
Madrid,  and  it  would  be  an  endless  task  to  enumerate  the 
different  hospitals,  three  of  which  alone  receive  annually 
twenty  thousand  patients  or  paupers.  Among  them  are 
houses  of  refuge  for  old  men,  poor  gentlemen,  sick  priests, 
and  worn-out  players ;  also  several  hospitals  for  found- 
lings ;  one  of  which,  the  Inclusa,  receives  annually  a  thou- 
sand infants.  It  has  an  open  porch,  with  a  shrine  that  is 
illuminated  in  the  night  by  a  single  lantern.  Here  the  in- 
fants may  be  deposited  in  front  of  the  altar,  and  are  taken  in 
at  stated  periods  during  the  night.  From  that  moment  they 
are  consigned  to  the  care  of  mercenary  hands,  and  sink  into 
the  condition  of  orphans.  There  are  likewise  two  houses  of 
refuge  for  women,  the  first,  called  Recogidas,  being  under 
the  invocation  of  Mary  Magdalene,  Its  inmates  cannot 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  179 

leave  the  walls  of  the  building  except  to  become  nuns  or 
be  given  in  marriage.  Under  the  same  roof  is  a  room  of 
seclusion,  where  women  are  kept  in  confinement  at  the  de- 
sire of  their  husbands. 

Such  are  some  of  the  institutions,  called  charitable,  to  be 
found  in  Madrid.  They  are  supported  on  the  rents  of 
houses  that  have  been  entailed  upon  them  by  their  found- 
ers, or  by  assignments  on  the  income  of  the  theatres,  lotte- 
ries, and  bull-fights.  Many  similar  establishments  have 
degenerated  from  their  primitive  destiny  into  hermitages 
and  oratories,  where  a  few  monks  say  mass,  and  fatten 
from  year's  end  to  year's  end,  under  the  pious  title  of  Arre- 
pentidos,  Afligidos,  or  Agonizantes.  Those  which  still  ex- 
ist are,  for  the  most  part,  appendages  of  vice  and  misery, 
which  they  probably  tend  more  to  promote  than  to  check 
or  alleviate.  The  same  may  not  be  said  of  the  Monte-de- 
Piedad,  an  establishment,  the  object  of  which  is  to  allevi- 
ate the  necessities  of  the  poor,  by  lending  them  money 
upon  pledges,  which  are  preserved  a  year,  and  then,  if  they 
remain  unreclaimed,  publicly  sold,  and  the  loan  being  liqui- 
dated, the  balance  returned  to  the  borrower,  who,  though 
he  may  have  saved  but  little  from  the  wreck,  at  least  es- 
capes the  greedy  clutches  of  the  pawnbroker. 

Nor  are  the  learned  institutions  of  Madrid  less  numerous 
than  those  of  which  the  object  is  benevolence.  The  first 
of  these  in  rank  and  name  is  the  Royal  Spanish  Academy, 
whose  object  is  to  refine  and  perfect  the  national  language, 
and  which  has  already  promoted  the  object  of  its  institution 
by  the  publication  of  a  grammar,  in  which  every  thing  is 
defined  by  invariable  rules,  conformable  in  an  unusual  de- 
gree to  reason  and  the  soundest  logic.  It  has  also  produced 
a  dictionary,  which  is  considered  the  most  perfect  of  any 
known.  The  Spaniards  doubtless  owe  no  little  of  that 
rare  and  admirable  symmetry  for  which  their  language  is 
conspicuous  to  the  labours  of  this  learned  society. 


180  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

The  Royal  Academy  of  History  undertakes  to  inquire 
into  the  past,  and  record  the  present  history  of  Spain.  The 
society  of  Amigos  del  Pays  was  instituted  to  investigate  all 
subjects  relating  to  agriculture,  manufactures,*  and  com- 
merce ;  to  suggest  the  means  of  raising  them  from  their 
fallen  condition,  and  to  stimulate  and  direct  the  dormant 
energies  of  the  nation.  Similar  societies  are  found  in  all 
the  cities  of  Spain.  There  are  likewise  royal  academies  of 
surgery,  veterinary  surgery,  botany  ;  of  roads  and  bridges, 
of  cosmography,  and  even  of  stenography.  In  each  of  the 
thirty-two  barriers  into  which  Madrid  is  divided  is  a  school 
for  boys,  and  another  for  girls,  in  which  the  children  whose 
parents  are  unable  to  pay  the  small  charge  for  tuition  are 
taught  gratuitously,  the  teachers  being  recompensed  by  the 
Junta  of  Charity. 

Madrid  had  formerly  an  academy  for  the  instruction  of 
deaf  mutes,  and  claims  the  high  honour  of  having  origina- 
ted this  noble  art.  It  was  invented  towards  the  commence- 
ment of  the  seventeenth  century,  by  Don  Juan  Pablo  Bonet, 
and  was  put  in  practice,  under  his  direction,  by  Father 
Bernardino-  Ponce.  Bonet,  being  secretary  to  the  Consta- 
ble of  Castile,  was  led  to  turn  his  attention  to  the  subject, 
by  the  grief  which  he  felt  at  seeing  the  brother  of  his  pa- 
tron deprived  of  the  use  of  speech.  This  wonderful  art, 
one  of  the  proudest  efforts  of  the  human  mind,  is  a  triumph- 
ant proof  of  what  man  is  capable  of  when  guided  by  the 
noble  desire  of  alleviating  misery. 

There  is  one  institution  which  is  more  remarkable  than 
those  which  have  just  been  enumerated,  called  the  Hidro- 
grafica,  of  which  the  object  is  to  collect  all  such  informa- 
tion as  relates  to  naval  affairs.  For  this  purpose  the  prin- 
cipal of  the  establishment  is  in  constant  correspondence 
with  the  officers  of  government  in  Spain  and  the  colonies, 
and  with  men  of  science  in  every  country,  in  order  to  re- 
ceive the  earliest  information  of  newly-discovered  land  or 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  181 

dangers  in  the  ocean,  or  of  corrections  in  the  positions  of 
such  as  are  already  known.  These  are  forthwith  inserted 
and  made  public  in  the  charts,  which  are,  from  time  to 
time,  published  by  the  Hidrografica.  Connected  with  the 
establishment  is  an  engraving-press  ;  a  shop  where  all  the 
books  and  charts  published  by  it  are  sold  at  cost  ;  and  a 
well-selected  library,  in  which  one  may  find  all  books,  in 
whatever  language,  of  mathematics,  astronomy,  navigation, 
voyages,  and  travels  ;  in  short,  every  thing  which  in  any  way 
relates  to  the  nautical  art.  Of  two  draughtsmen  employed 
in  the  Hidrografica,  I  found  one  occupied  in  correcting  a 
map  of  Cuba,  the  other  in  making  a  new  chart  of  the  coast 
of  the  United  States.  It  was  curious  to  see  a  Spaniard,  in 
the  heart  of  the  Peninsula,  laying  down  the  soundings  of 
Chesapeake  Bay,  which  is  scarcely  visited  once  a  year  by 
the  flag  of  his  country.  The  execution  of  such  charts  as 
were  finished  was  as  good,  nay,  better,  than  that  of  any 
that  are  published  in  France  or  England.  Don  Martin 
Navarrete  is  at  the  head  of  this  establishment ;  and  in  tins 
character  he  has  lately  published  a  collection  of  Spanish 
voyages  and  discoveries,  which  contains  the  journal  of  Co- 
lumbus. He  is  a  veteran  sea-officer,  who  has  a  high  char- 
acter for  science ;  and  the  admirable  order  visible  in  the 
Hidrografica  speaks  greatly  in  his  favour. 

Though  such  an  institution  as  this  may  be  looked  on  as 
a  useless  encumbrance  to  a  nation  which,  like  Spain,  is  ab- 
solutely without  a  marine,  its  utility  to  qne  which  covers 
every  sea  with  its  ships  will  be  readily  admitted ;  one 
which,  like  the  United  States,  claims  the  rank  of  second 
naval  power.  With  us,  a  man  of  science,  invested  with  the 
authority  of  a  government  office,  could  call  upon  our  con- 
suls in  foreign  countries,  and  upon  our  naval  commanders 
who  visit  every  sea,  for  such  information  as  they  might  be 
able  to  procure  of  a  novel  or  interesting  nature  ;  such,  for 
instance,  as  would  result  from  collecting  correct  charts  of 

16 


182  A.   YEAR   IN    SPAIlf. 

the  coasts  and  harbours  they  visit ;  pointing  out  any  errors 
they  may  discover  in  those  which  have  hitherto  been  re- 
ceived as  perfect ;  determining  doubtful  or  disputed  longi- 
tudes, and  in  furnishing  such  observations  as  may  aid  in 
forming  a  general  system  of  winds  and  currents.  There 
are  few  of  the  oldest  countries,  whose  coasts  have  been 
known  and  frequented  from  time  immemorial,  which  are  de- 
lineated with  perfect  accuracy ;  but  the  coasts  on  both 
sides  of  America,  and  even  of  the  United  States,  are  in  a 
measure  imperfectly  known. 

It  may  be  urged,  in  reply  to  this  suggestion,  that  the  value 
which  navigators  set  upon  accurate  information  of  this  na- 
ture will  always  offer  a  sufficient  bounty  to  the  publishers 
of  charts  to  make  them  seek  the  earliest  and  best  advice, 
and  strive  to  excel  each  other  in  furnishing  correct  publi- 
cations. But  let  it  be  remembered  that  the  object  of  these 
publishers  is  not  so  much  to  be  at  great  trouble  or  expense  in 
order  to  render  their  charts  correct,  as  to  induce  navigators 
to  believe  that  they  really  are  so.  Besides,  individuals  can- 
not possess  those  extensive-  means  of  procuring  information 
which  a  public  officer  may  have  at  command,  and  which 
are  now  lost  to  the  world.  If  the  troublesome  plea  of  econ- 
omy be  urged  against  such  an  establishment,  I  answer,  that 
it  might  easily  be  made  to  pay  its  own  expense.  And 
though  it  should  not,  the  saving  of  a  single  vessel  in  a  year 
would  balance  many  times  the  deficiency.  The  people  of 
the  United  States,  collectively,  are  as  much  poorer  for  the 
loss  of  a  single  vessel,  as  though  an  equivalent  in  money 
were  taken  from  the  public  treasury  and  cast  into  the  sea. 
I  say  nothing  of  the  loss  of  valuable  lives  to  the  commu- 
nity ;  of  drowning  sailors,  of  widowed  women,  or  of  chil- 
dren that  look  in  vain  towards  the  sea  for  the  return  of 
their  fathers. 

There  are  in  Madrid  four  public  libraries,  which  are  con- 
stantly open  from  nine  Until  two  o'clock,  with  the  exception 


A.    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  183 

of  feast-days,  and  of  which  the  Royal  Library  is  the  prin- 
cipal. It  has  been  lately  removed  to  a  building  erected  for 
the  purpose,  which  is  finely  situated  on  the  square  beside 
the  palace.  The  reading-tables  are  placed  in  three  noble 
rooms,  corresponding  to  as  many  sides  of  the  edifice,  which 
is  built  round  a  court,  and  has  a  fine  stairway  in  the  centre. 
These  rooms  are  carpeted  with  straw  mats,  and  in  the  middle 
are  files  of  tables  with  pens  and  ink,  and  comfortable  chairs 
beside  them.  Against  the  walls  are  the  bookshelves,  num- 
bered, and  tastefully  ornamented.  In  each  corner  of  these 
rooms  are  persons  reading  at  their  desks,  who  rise  instantly 
to  hand  down  such  books  as  are  asked  for ;  they  are  not 
servants  dressed  in  livery,  as  in  the  French  library,  but 
well-bred  men,  apparently  literary  persons,  who  find  here  a 
maintenance  and  leisure  to  follow  their  pursuits.  Besides 
these  attendants,  ten  in  number,  there  were  a  porter,  who 
lived  in  a  small  room  upon  a  lower  court,  and  whose  busi- 
ness it  was  to  kindle  and  place  the  braseros  of  burning  em- 
bers in  the  different  rooms  ;  a  gardener,  who  cultivated  a 
small  spot  adjoining  the  edifice  ;  and  over  all,  an  aged  chief, 
decorated  with  three  or  four  ribands  and  crosses,  who  came 
and  went  every  day  very  quietly  in  a  low-hung  carriage, 
drawn  by  two  fat  mules,  and  driven  by  an  ancient  postill- 
ion. Thus  there  were  no  less  than  thirteen  persons  at- 
tached to  the  Royal  Library,  without  counting  a  picket  of 
the  Spanish  Guards,  who  kept  sentry  at  the  door,  to  see 
that  every  one  doffed  his  hat  and  unrolled  his  cloak  before 
entering  this  sanctuary  of  learning ;  a  fact  which  may 
serve  to  give  an  idea  of  the  manner  in  which  every  branch 
of  the  public  service  in  Spain  is  burdened  with  officers. 

Besides  two  hundred  thousand  printed  volumes,  the  Royal 
Library  contains  a  number  of  Arabian,  and  an  immense 
quantity  of  Spanish  manuscripts,  that  have  never  seen  the 
light.  This  is  not  conclusive  as  to  their  want  of  merit,  but 
•hows  the  barrier  which  has  for  centuries  been  maintained 


184  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

here  against  every  species  of  publicity.  I  have  even 
heard  it  said,  that  in  Spain  the  manuscript  was  wellnigh 
as  valuable  as  the  printed  literature.  The  cabinet  of  med- 
als is  arranged  in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  rooms  I  have 
anywhere  seen  ;  and  indeed  it  well  deserves  the  care  taken 
of  it,  for  it  contains  perfect  and  extensive  series  of  Greek, 
Roman,  Gothic,  Arabic,  and  modern  coins  and  medals,  in 
excellent  preservation,  and  is  considered  the  third  in  the 
world,  being  estimated  at  two  hundred  thousand  dollars. 

Few  establishments  of  the  kind  are  on  an  equal  footing 
for  convenience  and  comfort  with  the  Royal  Library.  Its 
rooms  have  a  pleasant  exposure,  are  well  furnished,  and 
appropriately  ornamented,  are  kept  warm  in  winter,  and 
silent  at  all  times.  Indeed,  the  most  fastidious  reader,  as 
he  sinks  into  one  of  their  ample  chairs,  glances  round  upon 
the  well-filled  shelves,  and  thence  upon  the  busy  people 
about  him,  each  intent  upon  his  book,  and  at  length  lets 
his  eye  fall  upon  the  volume  of  his  choice  spread  out  be- 
fore him,  could  not  possibly  find  any  thing  to  desire.  This 
prosperity  is  doubtless  owing  to  the  library's  drawing  its 
support  from  sources  which  are  independent  of  the  neces- 
sities of  the  state.  It  is  one  of  many  institutions  which 
awaken  the  admiration  of  the  stranger  in  Spain,  as  being 
at  variance  with  the  pervading  decay. 

Such  are  some  of  the  claims  which  Madrid  possesses  to 
be  called  a  great  city ;  and  so  enthusiastic  is  the  opinion 
which  the  inhabitants  entertain  of  it,  that  they  will  even 
tell  you,  with  the  bombast  in  which  they  are  apt  to  indulge, 
that  there  is  no  capital  but  Madrid,  and  where  Madrid  is, 
let  the  world  be  silent — "  Solo  Madrid  es  Corte — Donde 
esta  Madrid  calle  el  Mundo !" 


A  YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  185 


CHAPTER  VII. 

PUBLIC    AMUSEMENTS. 

Spanish  Drama  —  Its  Fertility— Calderon  —  Tragedy — The  Sainete — Its 
Popular  Character — Theatres  of  the  Cross  and  Prince — Arrangement 
of  Houses — Actors — La  Torre — Guzman — Actresses — The  Prompter — 
The  Bolero— The  Fandango— The  Cachucha. 

THE  late  period  of  the  Constitution  was,  in  Madrid,  a 
season  of  jubilee,  in  which  the  public  mind,  so  long  shack- 
led by  despotism,  and  held  in  check  by  inquisitorial  dread, 
was  at  once  allowed  free  exercise  and  unrestrained  ex- 
pression. The  people,  intoxicated  by  indistinct  notions 
of  liberty,  evinced  their  joy  by  crowding  to  the  places  of 
public  amusement,  and  by  festive  entertainments  given  in 
the  open  promenade  of  the  Prado.  This,  however,  had  its 
end,  like  the  season  of  stupor  by  which  it  had  been  pre- 
ceded. The  French  were  admitted  to  an  easy  conquest 
of  Spain,  and  Ferdinand,  having  exchanged  one  set  of  mas- 
ters for  another,  returned  once  more  to  his  capital.  Fury 
and  fanaticism  came  with  him ;  robberies,  murders,  and 
public  executions  took  the  place  of  rejoicings ;  and  the 
Spaniards,  who  still  continued  to  think  and  feel,  sought  to 
conceal  it  under  a  cloak  of  apathy.  The  effect  of  such  a 
change  on  public  manners  is  perfectly  obvious  ;  friends  no 
longer  cared  to  meet  friends,  when  every  topic  of  discourse 
might  lead  insensibly  to  something  that  was  proscribed, 
and  when  no  man  was  willing  to  trust  his  security  to  the 
keeping  of  another.  Each  person  sought  his  amusements 
within  the  well-bolted  door  of  his  own  apartment,  and  fes- 
tivity no  longer  gained  by  participation.  As  the  storm 
passed  over,  and  the  panic  abated,  the  intercourse  of  soci- 
ety was  partially  resumed  ;  but,  in  general,  it  still  confines 
16* 


186  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

itself  to  meeting  at  the  theatres,  public  walks,  or  in  the 
evening  tertulias,  when  the  ladies  remain  at  home  and  re- 
ceive the  visits  of  their  male  acquaintance,  who  circulate 
until  a  late  hour  from  house  to  house.  In  the  most  distin- 
guished class,  consisting  of  the  higher  noblesse  and  the 
diplomatic  corps,  the  French  usages  are  so  entirely  adopt- 
ed, that  when  they  occasionally  come  together,  even  the 
national  language  is  partially  superseded.  With  the  French 
customs,  however,  the  French  fondness  for  society  has  not 
been  adopted,  or  else  it  is  restrained  and  counteracted  by 
political  dissension. 

Notwithstanding  the  stagnation  of  public  festivity  brought 
about  by  the  counter-revolution,  those  who  cater  for  the 
Spanish  nation  in  all  matters,  whether  of  politics,  informa- 
tion, or  amusement,  still  continue  to  provide  certain  diver- 
sions to  give  employment  to  the  public  mind.  Of  these, 
the  most  prominent  is  the  drama. 

The  Spanish  theatre  is  said  to  possess  the  richest  fund 
of  dramatic  literature  in  existence,  and  to  have  contributed 
abundantly  to  the  other  stages  of  Europe.  It  counts  up- 
wards of  twenty  thousand  comedies,  of  which  Lope  de  Ve- 
ga alone  furnished  near  two  thousand.  Lope  de  Vega  is 
by  far  the  most  prolific  dramatist  that  ever  lived,  and  a  line 
of  his  own  has  been  quoted  to  show  that  the  same  day  has 
frequently  witnessed  the  writing  and  performance  of  his 
comedies.  They  are  not,  however,  so  much  esteemed  as 
those  of  Calderon  de  la  Barca,  who  wrote  less  and  better. 
Calderon  is  remarkable  for  a  fruitful  invention  in  develop- 
ing a  plot,  and  in  bringing  about  unexpected  coincidences  ; 
for  nobleness  of  sentiment,  too,  and  harmony  of  diction ; 
but  his  compositions  are  wanting  in  attention  to  general  ef- 
fect, abound  in  plays  upon  words  and  equivoque,  mix  to- 
gether pathos  and  buffoonery,  and  sometimes  set  all  moral 
at  defiance.  They  are  chiefly  copies  of  Spanish  manners, 
as  they  existed  in  the  heroic  days  of  the  nation,  abounding 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  187. 

in  romantic  actions  of  courage  and  patriotism,  of  disinter- 
ested generosity  and  of  revenge,  the  consequence  of  that 
easily-offended  honour  which  distinguished  the  old  cava- 
liers. They  likewise  show  the  intrigue  which  passionate 
love  suggested  in  a  country  where  the  obstacles  to  female 
intercourse,  the  bolts  and  bars  bequeathed  by  the  Moors, 
which  compassed  the  Spanish  women  about  as  in  a  seragl- 
io, served  to  inflame  desire  and  awaken  ingenuity.  Scarce- 
ly one  of  them  but  has  a  lover,  meaning  no  harm,  yet  caught 
by  accident  in  the  apartment  of  his  mistress,  and  forced  to 
resort  to  concealment.  The  brother  of  the  lady  enters  and 
discovers  the  supposed  delinquent ;  a  duel  ensues,  and, 
without  time  for  explanation,  he  is  left  dead  on  the  pave- 
ment. The  lady  is  casually  saved  from  a  similar  fate  by 
the  interposition  of  a  third  person,  and  presently  after  her 
innocence  is  manifest.  Sometimes  there  are  three  or  four 
duels,  and  as  many  dying  men  crying  out,  "  Muerto  soy !" 
in  the  very  first  "Jornada."  This  furnishes  abundant  per- 
plexity for  the  heroes  and  heroines,  of  whom  there  are  usu- 
ally two  or  three  sets,  and  the  plot  becomes  entangled  in 
such  a  knot  of  trouble,  that  to  cut  oif  the  whole  dramatis 
personae  would  seem  the  only  means  of  extrication.  But 
is  one  man  left  dead  at  the  door,  and  another  killed  in  the 
house,  and  does  the  justice,  which  in  Spain  is  looked  upon 
as  the  most  terrible  of  all  visitations,  set  upon  the  afflicted 
parties  ? — the  ready  wit  of  a  lady  saves  all ;  the  alguazil  is 
told  that  the  dead  men  had  fallen  by  each  other's  hands, 
and  this  difficulty  is  removed  to  make  room  for  a  succes- 
sion of  others,  which  appear  and  vanish  before  the  ingenu- 
ity of  the  author,  until  the  entanglements  being  all  dexter- 
ously unravelled  as  if  by  magic,  the  survivers  are  at  length 
seen  linked  in  couples,  ready  to  be  married  at  the  falling 
of  the  curtain. 

How  little  the  moral  is  sometimes  regarded  by  Calderon 
may  be  seen  in  the  tragedy  entitled  "  A  Secreto  Agravio, 


188  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

Secreta  Venganza,"  which  I  saw  represented  at  Madrid. 
It  begins  with  the  story  of  one  Don  Juan,  who,  having 
killed  a  rival  for  giving  him  the  lie  at  Goa,  escapes  in  a  ship 
to  Lisbon,  where  he  is  publicly  pointed  at  as  an  insulted 
man,  and  at  once  puts  to  death  this  new  assailant  of  his 
honour.  These  two  preliminary  deaths  are  introduced  for 
no  other  purpose  than  to  prove  that  an  affront  is  often  re- 
membered when  its  reparation  is  forgotten.  On  his  arrival 
at  Lisbon,  Don  Juan  finds  his  old  friend,  Don  Lope  de  Al- 
meyda,  newly  married  to  Dona  Leonor,  a  lady  of  Toledo. 
This  Dona  Leonor  had  been  affianced  to  Don  Luis  de  Ben- 
avidas,  who,  being  at  the  wars  in  Flanders,  is,  through  some 
mistake,  reported  to  have  been  slain  in  battle.  Dona  Leo- 
nor, believing  her  lover  dead,  becomes  indifferent  to  life, 
and  is  easily  prevailed  upon  by  her  father  to  give  herself 
away  to  Don  Lope  de  Almeyda.  Scarcely,  however,  has 
she  contracted  this  unhappy  tie,  when  her  former  lover,  the 
only  lover  of  her  choice,  returns  from  Flanders,  and  appears 
before  her  in  Lisbon.  The  first  surprise  over,  she  re- 
proaches his  delay  as  the  cause  of  her  misfortunes.  Then, 
yielding  to  the  necessities  of  her  situation,  and  to  the  new 
obligations  which  bound  her,  she  grants  him  an  interview, 
that  they  might  make  their  peace  and  bid  adieu  for  ever. 
For  this  purpose,  Don  Luis  is  admitted  into  the  house  of 
Leonor.  As  bad  luck,  or  the  will  of  the  poet,  would  have 
it,  he  is  there  discovered  by  Don  Lope  in  concealment. 
The  latter,  however,  dreads  the  stain  which  his  honour 
would  suffer  from  public  scandal,  if  a  fatal  affray  should 
take  place  in  his  own  house.  He  therefore  affects  to  be- 
lieve the  evasive  explanations  of  Don  Luis,  and  conducts 
him  secretly  to  a  door,  whence  he  makes  his  escape  ;  con- 
soling himself  with  the  reflection,  that  a  man  who  seeks  re- 
venge must  await  the  occasion,  and,  until  it  be  found,  suffer, 
dissemble,  and  be  silent.  At  length,  chance  throws  the 
husband  and  the  lover  together  into  the  same  boat,  embarked 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  189 

upon  the  Tagus.  There,  Don  Lope  grapples  with  the  sup- 
posed destroyer  of  his  honour,  and  throws  him  into  the 
stream.  Thus  much  of  his  revenge  accomplished,  Don 
Lope  returns  to  land  as  if  shipwrecked ;  and,  having  told 
Dona  Leonor  that  his  companion  had  perished  in  the  de- 
struction of  the  boat,  he  affects  to  receive  her  grief  at  the 
death  of  her  lover  as  if  excited  by  his  own  danger.  In  the 
dead  of  that  very  night,  he  fires  his  country-house  upon  the 
banks  of  the  Tagus,  and  murders  his  wife.  Fire  and  water 
have  thus  combined  to  cleanse  his  honour  of  its  stain,  and 
he  consoles  himself  with  the  reflection  that  his  secret  is  in 
good  keeping,  and  that  they  will  not  proclaim  his  affront 
who  cannot  proclaim  his  revenge.  The  story  is  only  re- 
lated to  King  Sebastian,  who  observes,  that  a  secret  injury 
calls  for  secret  revenge,  and  the  survivers  set  off  to  fight  for 
religion  in  Africa. 

The  Spanish  sainetes  or  farces  are  very  different  from 
these  long-winded  old  tragedies  of  "  capa  y  espada."  The 
scene,  instead  of  passing  in  the  capital,  is  always  laid  in 
some  obscure  village  ;  and  the  personages,  instead  of  being 
princes  or  nobles,  are  of  the  lowest  class.  The  stage  is  al- 
ternately trodden  by  a  gipsy,  an  alcalde,  or  an  alguazil,  a  rob- 
ber, a  contrabandista,  or  a  sexton.  The  plot  of  the  sainete 
is  always  perfectly  simple,  and  turns  more  frequently  upon 
the  passing  interest  of  a  moment,  than  upon  matters  which 
concern  the  future  happiness  of  the  parties.  The  inside  of 
a  dwelling  or  posuda,  or  the  public  square  of  a  village,  is 
laid  open  to  the  audience.  A  few  of  the  worthies  of  the 
place  come  together,  and  talk  for  half  an  hour,  uttering 
equivoques,  and  sometimes  saying  things  that  are  not  at  all 
equivocal.  They  at  last  begin  to  quarrel,  and  get  by  the 
ears  ;  the  chairs  and  tables  are  overturned  in  the  confusion, 
and  the  parties  fall  to  beating  each  other  off  the  stage  with 
pasteboard  clubs,  which  make  a  loud  report,  and  gratify  the 
audience,  without  breaking  the  bones  of  the  comedians. 


190  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

There  is  no  people  who  have  more  in  their  manners  of 
the  grotesque  and  amusing  than  the  people  of  Spain ;  for 
this  reason,  the  sainete,  which,  like  Gil  Bias,  is  a  copy  and 
not  an  invention,  is  always  full  of  amusement.  The  play 
upon  words,  and  the  lively  sallies  of  the  gracioso,  so  offen- 
sive in  serious  pieces,  are  here  no  longer  amiss.  One  has 
to  laugh,  not  only  at  the  wit  of  the  sainete,  but  often  at 
its  very  absurdity.  The  name  of  the  piece,  too,  and  the 
list  of  personages,  often  suffice  of  themselves  to  promote 
merriment.  At  one  time  it  is  Saint  Anthony's  Pig,  in  which 
the  characters  are  a  peasant,  his  wife,  an  alcalde,  a  castra- 
dor,  and  a  sexton,  the  latter  of  whom  makes  love  success- 
fully and  talks  Latin.  At  another,  it  is  the  Cause  of  a 
Jackass,  pleaded  by  his  driver  and  an  innkeeper,  before 
some  worthy  alcalde,  who  administers  justice  much  after 
the  manner  of  Sancho  in  his  Island  of  Baritaria.  The 
interlude  of  Olalla  is  a  good  specimen  of  the  Spanish 
sainete. 

Olalla  is  a  country  lass,  sadly  perplexed  by  the  solicita- 
tions of  several  equally  detested  suiters.  One  of  them  is  a 
sexton,  another  a  soldier,  and  a  third  no  less  a  personage 
than  the  village  doctor.  In  order  to  rid  herself  of  their  en- 
treaties, she  determines  to  set  them  all  by  the  ears  together. 
When,  therefore,  the  sexton  comes  to  see  her,  she  prom- 
ises to  grant  his  most  unreasonable  request  if  he  will  dress 
himself  as  a  dead  man,  and  lay  himself  out  in  the  church  at 
midnight.  From  the  soldier  she  next  obtains  a  promise 
that  he  will  go  at  the  same  hour  and  keep  watch  over  the 
corpse ;  and  the  doctor  is  persuaded  to  assume  the  attri- 
butes of  the  devil,  and  go  to  turn  the  dead  man  out  of  his 
coffin.  Last  of  all,  she  gives  notice  to  the  alguazils  of  the 
expected  disorder.  At  the  appointed  hour,  Rinconete,  the 
sexton,  goes  to  the  church,  wrapped  from  head  to  foot  in  a 
white  sheet,  with  a  light  in  his  hand,  and  his  face  covered 
with  flour.  Having  stretched  himself  out  in  the  place 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  191 

where  the  funeral  mass  is  performed,  he  puts  the  candle- 
stick on  his  breast,  and  commences  a  soliloquy  on  the 
•wonder-working  power  of  love.  Presently  the  soldier  ap- 
pears, and  takes  his  post  tremblingly,  though  with  sword 
and  buckler.  The  sexton  is  greatly  alarmed  at  the  soldier, 
and  the  soldier  much  more  so  in  finding  himself  in  private 
with  a  dead  man,  who  presently  begins  to  talk  with  him,  and 
tell  him  that  there  is  no  jest  about  it,  but  that  he  is  really 
dead.  Upon  this  the  doctor  enters,  covered  over  with  little 
bells,  having  a  pair  of  horns  on  his  head  and  a  long  tail  be- 
hind. He  is  the  least  frightened  of  all,  and  finds  that  the 
guise  of  the  devil  lends  him  courage.  The  soldier,  unused 
to  face  such  foes,  is  greatly  dismayed,  and  the  dead  man 
believes  that  the  devil  has  indeed  come  for  his  own. 
Meanwhile  the  devil  advances,  catches  the  corpse  by  the 
feet,  and  pitches  it  over  upon  the  pavement.  The  dead 
man  resents  the  blow.  He  falls  upon  the  devil ;  and  the 
soldier,  gaining  courage  as  the  strife  grows  warm,  begins 
to  lay  about  him  furiously.  As  a  finale,  they  are  all  pounced 
upon  in  the  midst  of  the  affray,  and  carried  off  by  the 
justicia. 

In  addition  to  the  tragedies,  comedies,  and  farces,  they 
have  in  Spain  short  musical  pieces,  called  tonadillas  and 
seguidillas,  which  are  sung,  danced,  and  recited  by  two 
or  three  performers.  The  music  is  entirely  national ;  and 
one  may  find  in  these  little  primitive  pieces  the  earliest 
stage  of  the  opera.  As  for  the  theatres  of  Madrid,  they  do 
not  confine  themselves  to  Spanish  productions ;  but  more 
frequently  represent  tragedies,  comedies,  and  melodrames, 
in  the  modern  taste,  chiefly  translated  from  the  French. 
They  likewise  have  very  fair  Italian  operas  once  or  twice 
a  week,  which  are  given  in  the  two  theatres  alternately. 

There  are  at  present  in  Madrid  two  public  theatres,  the 
Theatre  of  the  Cross  and  the  Prince's  Theatre.  Their 
decoration  is  neat,  though  plain,  and  the  scenery  very 


192  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

good ;  each  is  capable  of  containing  about  fifteen  hundred 
persons,  and  in  arrangement  they  cannot  well  be  surpassed 
for  comfort  and  convenience.  The  half  of  the  pit  imme- 
diately behind  the  orchestra  is  divided  into  rows  of  seats, 
each  with  a  back  and  arms,  and  numbered,  so  that  a  person 
may,  late  or  early,  find  his  place  unoccupied.  These  seats 
are  called  "  lunetas,"  and  are  either  hired  for  a  month  or 
for  the  evening,  at  twelve  reals,  or  sixty  cents.  The  re- 
maining half  of  the  pit  contains  seats  of  inferior  price  and 
convenience  ;  and  still  farther  in  the  rear  are  people  who 
stand  up  and  see  the  play,  mixed  with  royalist  volunteers, 
who  are  present  to  keep  order.  The  galleries  are  divided 
into  private  boxes,  which  are  either  hired  for  the  season  or 
the  night.  Except  one  little  pigeon-house  next  the  ceil- 
ing, which  is  known  by  the  sociable  name  of  the  tertulia, 
the  men,  in  the  public  parts  of  the  house,  are  always  kept 
separate  from  the  women.  For  the  accommodation  of  the 
latter  there  is  a  large  place  called  the  cazuela,  directly  in 
front  of  the  stage,  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  theatre, 
and  where  none  can  enter  but  women  in  black  mantillas. 
In  the  intervals  of  performance,  the  gentlemen  rise  from 
their  seats  in  the  lunetas,  and  go  to  wait  upon  their  female 
acquaintances  in  the  boxes  ;  or  else  they  stand  up  with  their 
backs  to  the  stage,  and  sweep  the  whole  range  of  the  house 
with  their  double  opera-glasses.  When  they  catch  the  eye 
of  a  female  friend,  they  beckon  with  their  hands,  and  take 
their  hats  off ;  a  salutation  which  the  lady  returns  with  a 
nod,  a  smile,  a  brightening  of  the  eye,  and  a  pleasing  beck- 
oning with  the  fan  or  fingers.  The  whole  range  being 
well  examined,  and  this  task  of  salutation  over,  all  eyes 
are  turned  towards  the  cazuela,  or  stewpan.  To  look  on 
the  pale  faces,  black  mantillas,  and  blacker  eyes  of  the 
damsels  assembled  there,  one  might  almost  believe  them  a 
party  of  nuns,  such  as  may  be  seen  in  .the  chapel  of  a  con- 
vent, peeping  through  a  grating  upon  some  solemn  cere- 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  193 

mony,  and  casting  now  and  then  a  furtive-,  I  have  some- 
times fancied,  a  wistful  glance,  upon  the  assembled  multi- 
tude. This  deception,  however,  is  but  momentary  ;  for  the 
inmates  of  the  cazuela  are,  many  of  them,  any  thing  but 
nuns.  It  is  somewhat  unfavourable  to  the  gentler  sex 
to  remark,  that  while  every  thing  goes  on  orderly  in  the 
lunetas,  the  cazuela  is  often  the  scene  of  scolding  and  con- 
tention. This,  however,  may  proceed  from  their  being 
more  crowded  together  than  the  men,  and  being,  further- 
more, left  entirely  to  themselves ;  while  the  men  are  watch- 
ed and  taken  care  of  by  sundry  fierce-looking  realistas. 
Be  it  as  it  may,  there  was  sometimes  more  real  amusement 
in  glancing  into  the  cazuela  than  in  gazing  at  the  stage ; 
for,  what  with  confusion  of  voices,  adjusting  of  hair  and 
mantillas,  nods,  glances,  and  agitation  of  fans,  it  had  the 
turmoil  and  flutter  of  a  rookery. 

The  two  companies  of  Madrid  are  of  pretty  equal  force  ; 
but  if  there  be  any  difference,  it  is  in  favour  of  the  Prin- 
cipe. At  the  Cruz,  the  first  parts  are  filled  by  Garcia  Lu- 
na ;  at  the  Principe,  by  La  Torre,  who  is  the  first  Spanish 
tragedian  of  the  day.  La  Torre  is  a  pupil  of  the  celebra- 
ted Maiquez,  who  must,  from  all  accounts,  have  been  a 
wonderful  actor.  Maiquez  had  formed  himself  under  the 
eye  of  Talma,  and  played  for  a  while  with  great  success 
in  Madrid ;  but,  being  infected  with  liberal  notions,  he  found 
a  difficulty  in  smothering  his  feelings,  and  allowed  himself 
on  several  occasions  to  direct  his  indignant  declamations 
towards  the  king,  who  used  to  come  frequently  to  the  the- 
atre during  the  lifetime  of  his  last  queen.  For  this  or  some 
other  reason  he  fell  into  disgrace,  and  was  driven  from  the 
capital ;  and,  being  unable  to  delight  other  countries  with 
those  talents  which  could  only  be  appreciated  in  his  own, 
he  languished  in  poverty  somewhere  in  Andalusia,  where 
he  at  last  pined  away  and  died,  just  before  the  return  of 
the  Constitution.  As  for  La  Torre,  he  is  above  the  middle 

Vox-.  I.— I  17 


194  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

size,  and  finely  proportioned,  but  his  face  is  far  from  hand- 
some. His  features  are  large  and  coarse,  and  deeply  pit- 
ted with  the  smallpox.  La  Torre  is,  on  the  whole,  a  good 
tragedian,  equal,  perhaps,  to  the  best  on  the  Trench-stage. 
He  has,  to  a  certain  extent,  freed  himself  from  those  pre- 
scribed modes  of  declamation,  those  gestures  established 
by  custom  for  every  sentiment,  and  that  forced  and  infla- 
ted style  which  is  general  among  Spanish  players,  and 
which  they  doubtless  borrow  from  the  exaggerated  and 
bombastic  character  of  their  national  drama.  Though  fol- 
lowing nature  rather  than  the  rules  of  critics,  La  Torre  is 
still  a  long  way  from  perfection,  and  is  entirely  a  stranger 
to  those  quiet,  those  wonder-working  touches,  which  gave 
such  a  charm  to  the  acting  of  Talma. 

Nor  should  I  forget  to  mention  Guzman,  who  likewise 
plays  at  the  Principe,  and  who  is  far  better  as  a  gracioso 
than  La  Torre  as  a  tragedian.  As  for  the  female  perform- 
ers, they  are  equally  poor  in  both  theatres ;  a  singular 
fact,  which  may,  perhaps,  find  a  cause  in  the  disreputable 
character  of  the  dramatic  profession  in  Spain,  which  ex- 
cludes educated  women  from  the  stage  ;  and  in  the  loose- 
ness of  morals,  which  often  leads  such  as  are  beautiful  to 
abandon  an  ungrateful  profession.  In  private  life,  the 
Spanish  females  are  remarkable  for  tact  and  sprightliness 
in  conversation,  and  for  that  natural  courtesy  which  gives 
a  charm  to  social  intercourse.  When  they  step  upon  the 
stage  they  seem  to  leave  all  their  fascination  behind  them ; 
their  manner  is  at  times  inflated  and  unnatural  ;  at  others 
they  exhibit  symptoms  of  weariness  by  gaping,  or  of  in- 
attention to  the  business  of  the  scene,  by  exchanging 
glances  of  recognition  and  smiles  with  their  acquaintance 
among  the  audience. 

But  by  far  the  most  objectionable  appendage  of  the  Span- 
ish stage  is  its  prompter,  who  sits  in  a  kind  of  trap-door 
in  front  of  the  stage,  immediately  behind  the  lights,  con- 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  195 

cealed  from  the  audience  by  a  tin  box :  from  hence  he 
reads  the,  whole  of  the  piece  for  the  guidance  of  the  play- 
ers, who  seldom  commit  their  parts  to  memory.  His  book 
and  hand  usually  project  upon  the  boards,  and  are  seen 
pointing  from  one  to  another  of  the  actors,  to  indicate 
whose  turn  it  is,  his  voice  being  always  audible ;  and  occa- 
sionally, in  a  pathetic  part,  his  declamation  becomes  loud 
and  impassioned,  and  he  forgets  where  he  is,  until  called 
Sack  by  the  audience.  Since  the  prompter  precedes  the 
ictor,  you  frequently  know  in  anticipation  what  the  latter 
is  to  say,  and  the  idea  is  conveyed  by  the  ear  before  you 
see  the  action  which  is  meant  to  accompany  it ;  after  a 
while  the  actor  draws  himself  up  in  a  mysterious  way,  to 
repeat  to  you  a  secret  which  is  already  in  your  possession. 
This  is  even  more  monstrous  than  the  custom  which  pre- 
vailed in  the  infancy  of  the  Greek  drama,  of  having  one 
man  to  speak  and  another  to  gesticulate.  All  deception  is 
destroyed,  and  the  chief  pleasure  of  the  drama,  that  of 
making  one  forget  that  he  has  actors  before  him,  instead 
of  persecuted  orphans,  hapless  lovers,  or  heroes  bearing 
up  under  misfortune,  is  lost  entirely.  It  is  an  excellence 
which,  with  one  or  two  solitary  exceptions,  is  absolutely 
unknown  to  the  Spanish  comedians ;  they  are  all  players. 
At  all  events,  this  is  true  of  them  considered  as  tragedi- 
ans. In  the.  sainete,  the  case  is  different ;  indeed,  no 
sooner  is  the  tragedy  over,  and  the  men,  throwing  away 
cloak  and  sword,  and  kicking  off  the  buskin,  appear  in  the 
every-day  garb  of  peasants,  gipsies,  and  contrabandistas, 
and  the  women,  laying  aside  their  assumed  and  ill-worn 
look  of  innocence,  step  forth  loosely  and  boldly  as  coquettes 
and  shrews,  than  the  audience  is  at  once  lost  to  every  thing 
but  the  reality  of  the  scene.  The  jokes  and  equivoques 
call  down  unremitting  bursts  of  laughter,  and  the  finale  of 
breaking  each  other's  heads  with  clubs  of  paper  is  the  sig- 
nal for  shouting  and  uproar  amid  the  dispersing  audience. 
I  2 


196  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

That  the  Spaniards  should  fail  in  tragedy  and  succeed  in 
farce,  may  clash  with  all  those  received  notions  of  lofty 
bearing  and  Castilian  gravity  which  the  reader  may  have 
formed  to  himself.  Such  is,  nevertheless,  the  case ;  and  I 
describe  things  as  I  found  them,  not  as  I  expected  to  find 
them. 

But  I  had  wellnigh  forgotten  to  say  something  of  the 
dancing,  usually  introduced  as  an  interlude  between  the 
play  and  the  farce.  Who  has  not  heard  of  the  fandango  ? 
— a  dance  which  has  been  bequeathed  to  Spain  by  the 
Arab's,  together  with  the  guitar  and  the  castanet,  and  which, 
though  now  banished  from  refined  society  there,  still  pre- 
vails in  all  the  cities  of  South  America.  The  fandango  is 
danced  by  two  persons,  who  stand  opposite  to  each  other, 
and  who,  without  touching  so  much  as  a  finger,  still  con- 
trive to  interest  each  other  by  alluring  postures,  by  advan- 
cing, retreating,  and  pursuit ;  the  female  flying  for  a  time 
before  her  partner  like  a  scared  pullet,  and  showing  at  last 
evident  symptoms  of  languor,  hesitation,  and  approaching 
defeat.  No  one  can  deny  that  the  fandango  is  a  most  fas- 
cinating dance  ;  and  there  is  even  a  story  told  of  it,  which, 
would  set  the  matter  beyond  a  doubt,  and  which  is,  perhaps, 
as  true  as  many  other  very  good  stories. 

The  holy  see,  it  appears,  being  incited  by  the  solicitude 
of  the  Spanish  clergy  to  attempt  the  reformation  of  public 
morals  in  Spain,  issued  a  decree  forbidding  the  exhibition 
of  bullfights,  and  sent  a  Roman  bull  to  drive  all  the  Spanish 
ones  out  of  the  arena.  This  triumph  paved  the  way  for 
another ;  the  fandango  was  presently  attacked  in  form,  as 
having  a  tendency  to  excite  unchaste  desires,  and  to  pro- 
mote sensuality.  But  as  the  reverend  consistory  of  cardi- 
nals was  too  just  to  pass  sentence  unheard,  even  upon  the 
fandango,  a  couple  were  brought  before  the  grave  assem- 
blage to  exhibit  the  delinquent  dance.  The  dancers  made 
their  appearance  in  the  usual  costume,  took  out  their  cas- 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  197 

tanets,  raised  their  voices,  and  commenced  the  fandango. 
The  venerable  fathers  first  received  them  with  the  look  of 
sages,  determined  to  hear  in  patience  and  decide  justly. 
When  the  dance  began,  however,  they  contracted  their 
brows  and  looked  on  frowningly,  as  if  each  would  conceal 
his  own  secret  satisfaction.  But  at  last  nature  overcame  dis- 
simulation, their  hearts  wanned,  their  countenances  bright- 
ened, and,  flinging  their  long  hats  and  scullcaps  at  each 
other,  they  began  to  caper  over  the  floor,  in  delighted  imi- 
tation of  the  fandango. 

The  fandango  having  thus  successfully  pleaded  its  own 
defence,  continued  to  appear  nightly  upon  the  Spanish  stage, 
and  the  progress  of  refinement  in  the  public  taste  has  grad- 
ually stripped  it  of  all  indecorum.  The  bolero  is  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  new  edition  of  the  fandango,  which 
contains  all  the  beauties  of  the  original,  curtailed  of  every 
thing  which  might  offend  the  most  scrupulous  delicacy. 
There  are  several  varieties  of  the  bolero,  known  by  distinct 
names,  and  which  may  be  danced  by  two,  four,  six,  and 
even  eight  persons.  To  my  taste,  however,  the  most  beau- 
tiful version  of  all  is  the  cachucha.  It  consists  of  a  nat- 
ural succession  of  movements  at  once  easy  and  graceful, 
and  has  been  well  defined  "  a  just  and  harmonious  convul- 
sion of  the  whole  body."  You  are  not  astonished,  as  at  the 
French  opera,  by  the  execution  of  feats  of  force  and  agil- 
ity, which  you  would  deem  impossible  did  you  not  see 
them,  nor  by  a  combination  of  intricate  movements  in  which 
the  art  consists  in  reducing  confusion  to  order ;  but  you  are 
led  along,  delighted  by  a  series  of  motions  and  attitudes, 
which  succeed  each  other  so  naturally,  that  the  dancers 
seem  to  be  on  the  floor  rather  for  their  own  amusement  than 
for  the  purpose  of  exhibition.  In  France,  the  standard  of 
excellence  consists  in  who  shall  jump  the  highest,  and  turn 
round  longest  on  one  foot,  the  other  being  raised  to  a  level 
with  the  chin.  There  the  legs  do  every  thing ;  but  the 
17* 


198  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

Andalusian  bolera  dances  not  only  with  her  feet,  but  like- 
wise with  her  arms,  with  the  graceful  inflections  of  her 
body,  and  with  her  speaking  eyes. 

I  have  seen  the  cachucha  danced  in  many  Spanish  cities, 
but  never  so  well  as  one  night  in  the  theatre  of  Malaga. 
On  that  occasion,  the  couple  could  scarce  have  been  sur- 
passed, either  for  good  looks  or  good  dancing.  Of  the 
young  man  it  is  but  small  praise  to  say,  that  he  was  of  fine 
size  and  perfect  proportions ;  for  how  could  it  be  other- 
wise, when  he  had  been  selected  from  a  whole  nation  of 
well-made  men,  to  do  the  honours  of  his  country  ?  All  this 
nature  had  given  him ;  nor  had  art  failed  to  lend  its  assist- 
ance. He  was  dressed  in  the  gala  costume  of  Andalusia, 
which  is  known  all  over  Spain  under  the  well-received 
name  of  majo,  or  dandy.  His  long  hair  was  combed  back- 
ward and  platted  with  ribands,  while  his  luxuriant  whiskers 
were  trimmed  into  the  true  Andalusian  curve.  Over  a  shirt 
richly  worked  at  the  breast,  sleeves,  and  collar,  he  wore  a 
green  velvet  jacket,  too  narrow  to  meet  in  front,  and  trim- 
med at  the  lapels  and  cuffs  with  abundance  of  dangling 
gold  buttons  of  basket-work.  Under  this  jacket,  and  indeed 
forming  part  of  it,  was  a  waistcoat  of  the  same  material, 
richly  embroidered  with  gold,  and  which  served  to  tighten 
the  outer  jacket  to  the  body.  The  collar  of  his  shirt  was 
confined  by  a  narrow  scarf  of  yellow  silk,  which  descended 
along  the  bosom,  and  his  waist  was  also  girded  with  many 
turns  of  a  sash  of  the  same  material.  He  wore  small-clothes 
of  green  velvet,  studded  with  buttons  from  the  hip  to  the 
knee,  white  silk  stockings,  and  black  shoes  ;  and  an  em- 
broidered handkerchief  peeped  from  each  pocket  of  his 
jacket.  Such  was  the  majo  of  Malaga. 

But  how  shall  I  give  the  reader  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
charms  of  the  bolera  ?  for  though  here,  too,  art  had  been 
busy,  nature  had  done  more,  and  even  surpassed  herself. 
Though  taller  than  women  usually  are,  she  was  still  of  per» 


A   YEAR   IN    SPATN.  199 

feet  conformation,  with  just  enough  of  fulness  to  remove 
the  imputation  of  being  lean,  and  to  indicate  the  perfection 
of  agility  and  grace.  Her  appearance  offered  one  of  the 
best  comments  upon  the  character  of  the  bolero ;  for  her 
form  had  not  suffered  by  the  nature  of  the  exercise,  and  was 
neither  cramped  nor  disfigured  by  painful  exertion.  Her 
head  wore  no  other  covering  than  its  own  luxuriant  tresses 
of  jet  black  hair,  parted  in  the  middle,  and  decorated  by  a 
single  red  rose.  As  for  her  complexion,  it  was  of  a  ripe 
and  ruddy  brown,  with  features  dignified  enough,  but  rather 
laughing  and  complacent ;  white  teeth,  well-arched  eye- 
brows, and  flashing  eyes,  such  as  are  only  to  be  met  with  in 
the  mellow  region  of  Andalusia.  There  was,  in  fact,  about 
this  lovely  girl,  the  air  of  one  who  had  inherited  even  more 
than  a  woman's  share  of  soul  and  feeling. 

The  dress  of  the  maja  was  of  green  silk,  trimmed  with 
gold,  and  the  lower  half  was  entirely  surrounded  by  a  loose 
tassel-work  of  glittering  gold  fringe.  When  she  stood  still, 
it  hung  in  rich  and  heavy  folds  around  her  ;  but,  when 
turning  rapidly  in  the  windings  of  the  dance,  it  would  ex- 
pand into  a  golden  halo.  Though  her  dress  rose  high  in 
the  neck,  it  left  the  arms  at  liberty,  and  their  healthy  hue 
was  relieved  by  black  ribands  tied  above  the  wrist  and  el- 
bow, while  a  string  of  the  same  confined  a  castanet  to  either 
thumb.  Over  stockings  of  white  silk  she  wore  a  light 
slipper,  partially  covering  a  foot  that  did  but  touch  the 
ground,  as  if  unwillingly,  at  the  heel  and  toe,  and  seemed 
to  spurn  it. 

The  music  has  given  a  preparatory  flourish,  and  the  fine- 
looking  young  man  and  this  bewitching  girl  have  darted 
from  behind  the  scenes,  rattling  their  castanets  as  they 
come.  They  are  evidently  well  pleased  with  themselves, 
and  their  eyes  beam  with  good-humour  towards  each  other 
and  the  happy  audience.  As  for  the  bolera,  she  salutes  us 
with  a  laughing  eye,  a  retreating  step,  a  backward  motion 


200  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

of  the  arms,  and  a  single  stroke  of  her  castanet.  They  arc, 
in  fact,  only  waiting  for  the  murmur  of  applause  to  pass 
away,  that  they  may  begin  the  entertainment.  I  would 
willingly  make  the  reader  follow  them  in  this  trial  of  grace  ; 
but  to  give  an  idea  of  any  dance,  where  so  much  depends 
on  the  motion,  the  attitude,  or  the  look  of  the  moment,  is 
an  ungrateful  task.  I  will  therefore  merely  tell  him  that 
here,  as  in  most  Spanish  dances,  there  was  implied  a  sim- 
ple story  of  rural  courtship  and  coquetry,  upon  which  to 
found  a  pantomime.  The  dancers  alternately  advanced, 
drew  back,  pursued,  retreated,  passed  and  repassed  each 
other,  keeping  time  all  the  while  with  their  arms  and  cas- 
tanets, nay,  with  the  whole  body,  to  a  peculiar  music, 
which  was  sometimes  gay,  sprightly,  and  animating,  some- 
times wild,  plaintive,  and  reproachful,  expressing,  now  con- 
tentment and  happiness,  now  the  poignant  sorrow  of  unre- 
quited love.  Occasionally  there  would  occur  an  abrupt 
break  in  the  music,  and  they  would  remain  an  instant  in  the 
attitude  in  which  it  left  them.  -  At  others,  the  bolera  alone 
•would  pause,  look  with  a  satisfied  air  upon  the  performance 
of  her  partner,  and,  not  content  with  striking  the  castanets 
in  her  extended  hands,  would  mark  the  time  for  him  by  a 
skilful  motion  of  her  heel.  At  this  critical  moment  the  cur- 
tain interposed  its  dingy  folds  ;  the  interruption  was  mosj 
unwelcome,  for  I  thought  I  could  have  thus  gazed  for  ever. 
Nor  was  the  impression  merely  momentary  ;  for  never  since 
then  have  I  heard  the  sound  of  the  castanet,  without  a  quick- 
ened motion  of  my  blood  and  a  full  recollection  of  that 
lovely  Maliguena. 


A   TEAR   IN    SPAIN.  201 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    BULL-FEAST. 

Its  Origin — The  Royal  Feasts — Their  Magnificence — Noble  Combatants — 
The  Spear— Modern  Fight— The  Arena— Winter  Feast— Young  Bulls— 
The  Audience — Opening  of  the  Feast— The  Chulos — The  Picadores — 
The  Bull— The  Fight— The  Horses— The  Matadore— The  Death. 

THE  bullfight  is  the  great  national  amusement  of  Spain ; 
an  amusement  which,  though  it  may  be  stigmatized  as  cruel 
and  brutalizing,  is  nevertheless  unequalled  in  deep  and 
anxious  interest.  As  for  the  drama,  it  owes  every  thing  to 
deception,  and  it  is  only  when  most  cheated  that  we  are 
most  amused.  I  have  seen  Talma  stand  alone  upon  the 
stage,  and  describe  the  execution  of  Mary  Stewart,  as  it 
advances  in  the  hall  adjoining.  He  shows  you  each  motion 
of  the  victim ;  she  ascends  the  scaffold  under  the  pious 
revilings  of  the  English  dean,  prepares  her  neck  to  meet  the 
instrument  of  the  executioner,  takes  an  affectionate  leave 
of  her  followers.  Presently  the  hollow  sounding  stroke 
qf  the  axe  calls  forth  a  piercing  shriek,  and  deprives  him  of 
sensibility ;  the  audience  is  convulsed  with  horror.  I  have 
seen  this  same  wonderful  man  and  Mademoiselle  Mars  in 
Kotzebue's  drama  of  the  Stranger.  The  heart-broken  hus- 
band and  the  unhappy  wife  have  come  together  to  take  a 
last  farewell ;  forgiveness  has  been  asked  and  granted,  and 
the  hard,  the  fatal  word  is  already  uttered.  They  turn  to 
depart,  and  are  met  by  their  children.  They  pause,  em- 
brace these  dear  pledges  of  a  still  lingering  love,  turn  again 
to  look,  then  fall  upon  the  necks  of  each  other.  I  saw  this, 
and  wept  until  I  was  ashamed  of  myself ;  but  this  dra- 
matic interest,  though  more  grateful  to  our  best  sensibil- 
13 


202  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

ities,  more  worthy  of  a  feeling  heart,  is  far  less  powerful 
than  that  which  is  excited  by  the  real  dangers  of  the  arena. 

It  has  furnished  matter  of  much  learned  discussion, 
whether  the  Spaniards  derive  their  bullfights  from  the  Ro- 
mans or  the  Moors.  It  is,  however,  pretty  well  established, 
that  the  Taurilia  of  the  Romans  were  similar  to  those  of 
modern  times.  It  is  equally  certain  that  the  bullfight  held 
an  important  rank  in  the  chivalrous  sports  of  the  Arabian 
Spaniards.  Having  adopted  this  custom  of  the  conquered 
country,  they  carried  it  to  great  perfection  ;  for  with  them 
it  furnished  a  means  of  finding  favour  with  the  fair,  who  at- 
tended the  spectacle,  and  was,  besides,  a  miniature  of  those 
scenes  of  strife  and  warfare  in  which  they  were  constantly 
engaged.  They,  doubtless,  introduced  the  mode  of  fighting 
the  bull  on  horseback  and  with  the  lance  ;  for  they  were  a 
nation  of  cavaliers,  who  did  every  thing  in  the  saddle,  and 
even  conquered  Spain  at  a  gallop.  Thus  improved,  the 
bullfight,  with  many  other  usages,  was  transmitted  by  the 
Moors  to  their  Christian  conquerors,  who  also  inherited 
many  beautiful  ballads  on  the  subject.  These  are  still  pre- 
served in  the  Castilian,  and  form  part  of  the  spoil  which 
the  exiles  left  behind  them  when  they  returned  to  Africa. 

Even  in  the  last  century,  the  Royal  Feasts  were  still  cel- 
ebrated in  Spain  on  all  great  occasions,  such  as  the  birth, 
marriage^jS&KJ;:-' coronation  of  a  prince.  In  Madrid,  these 
feasts  alw'ays  took  place  in  the  Plaza  Mayor,  an  extensive 
quadrangle,  four  hundred  and  fifty  by  three  hundred  and 
fifty  feet,  which  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  city.  The 
Plaza  Mayor  is  surrounded  by  uniform  ranges  of  houses, 
five  and  six  £t$ries  high,  with  wide  balconies  and  an  arcade 
below,  whiclf'runs  round  the  whole  interior.  At  each  of 
the  corners,  and  midway  between  them,  are  arched  portals, 
which  communicate  with  the  streets  without,  while  within 
the  arcade  furnishes  a  covered  walk  round  the  area,  which 
serves  as  a  market-place.  The  buildings  around  the  Plaza 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  203 

Mayor  consist  of  the  royal  bakery,  and  of  one  hundred  and 
thirty-six  dwelling-houses,  which  contain  a  population  of 
three  thousand  persons.  When  the  royal  feasts  took  place, 
the  front  apartments  of  these  houses  were  let  out  by  their 
occupants,  and  thronged  with  spectators  to  their  very  roofs. 
Below,  wooden  benches  were  erected  for  the  populace,  and 
the  royal  halberdiers,  with  their  steel-headed  battleaxes, 
formed  a  barrier  to  protect  them  from  the  fury  of  the  bull. 
The  royal  family  drove  into  the  Plaza  in  splendid  carriages 
of  state,  and  being  attended  by  the  first  cavaliers  and  most 
distinguished  beauties  of  the  court,  took  their  station  in  the 
gilded  balconies  of  the  Panaderia ;  while  all  the  surround- 
ing houses  were  hung  with  curtains  of  variegated  silk,  in- 
termingled with  fans  and  handkerchiefs,  set  in  motion  by 
the  hand  of  beauty. 

When  all  was  ready,  the  cavaliers  selected  for  the  com- 
bat made  their  appearance  in  gala  coaches,  attended  by 
their  sponsors,  who  were  usually  the  first  grandees  of 
Spain ;  for  in  the  days  of  chivalry,  to  fight  the  bull  was  the 
peculiar  privilege  of  gentle  blood.  They  were  followed  by 
companies  of  horsemen,  dressed  in  the  Moorish  garb,  who 
led  the  horses  of  their  masters.  These  having  mounted 
and  received  their  lances,  went  beneath  the  royal  balcony 
to  salute  the  king,  and  each  took  care,  doubtless,  to  catch 
the  approving  or  cautionary  glance  of  his  mistress.  The 
arena  being  cleared  by  the  alguazils,  the  king  waved  his 
handkerchief,  warlike  music  repeated  the  signal,  and  a  bull 
was  let  in.  The  cavaliers  approached  him  one  by  one, 
with  lances  in  rest,  and  their  ardour  was  shared  by  their 
proud-spirited  horses.  Sometimes  the  bull  would  receive 
the  spear  deep  into  his  neck,  at  others  he  would  shiver 
it  to  pieces,  and  overturn  every  thing  in  his  course. 

There  were  on  these  occasions  several  modes  of  com- 
bat. Dogs  were  occasionally  introduced  to  meet  the  bull, 
and  though  often  tossed  and  mangled,  it  was  more  frequent 


204  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

for  them  to  succeed  in  seizing  his  nose  and  holding  him 
motionless  to  the  ground.  Another  manner  was  much 
more  harmless.  The  skins  of  different  animals,  blown  into 
whimsical  figures,  were  placed  in  the  arena ;  and  it  was 
often  found  that  the  bull  had  less  dread  of  an  armed  antag- 
onist than  of  these  immoveable  objects,  which  awaited  his 
attack  without  any  sign  of  fear.  There  was,  however,  one 
mode  the  most  cruel  and  dangerous  of  all.  A  man  dressed 
in  fantastic  colours,  to  attract  attention,  placed  himself  in 
front  of  the  portal  by  which  the  bull  was  to  enter,  holding 
in  both  hands  an  iron  spear,  one  end  of  which  was  fixed  in 
the  ground,  while  the  point  inclined  upward  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  portal ;  the  combatant  crouched  closely  behind 
this  spear,  which  served  the  double  purpose  of  weapon  and 
defence.  Thus  prepared,  he  awaited  the  career  of  the 
bull,  who,  on  the  opening  of  the  portal,  made  at  once  to- 
wards the  only  object  which  stood  in  the  way  of  its  fury. 
If  the  career  of  the  bull  were  direct,  the  spear  entered  deep 
into  his  forehead,  and  he  remained  nailed  to  the  earth ;  if, 
on  the  contrary,  the  hold  of  the  combatant  became  unsteady 
through  fear,  or  the  bull  glanced  to  either  side,  he  would 
pass  the  point  of  the  weapon  with  a  grazed  face  or  the  loss 
of  an  eye,  and  dart  with  fury  upon  his  unprotected  victim, 
toss  him  high  into  the  air,  and  moisten  the  arena  with  his 
blood. 

The  bullfight  has  been  several  times  abolished  in  Spain ; 
once  in  1567,  by  an  edict  of  Pope  Pius  V.,  which  was  re- 
voked in  1576  by  Clement  VIII.  In  the  present  century 
it  was  again  abolished  by  Godoy ;  but  is  now  re-establish- 
ed, and  will  doubtless  long  continue  to  form  the  favourite 
amusement  of  the  Spanish  people.  It  is  true  that  it  is  no 
longer  the  splendid  spectacle  which  it  once  was  ;  we  look 
in  vain  for  the  gilded  balconies,  thronged  with  the  wealthy 
and  the  beautiful,  and  for  that  soul-inspiring  enthusiasm 
which,  has  died  with  the  days  of  chivalry.  But  though 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  205 

princes  and  nobles  no  longer  descend  into  the  arena,  their 
places  are  filled  with  equal  courage,  and,  perhaps,  greater 
skill,  by  butchers  from  Andalusia,  who  become  toreros  by 
profession.  The  toreros  of  modern  times  no  longer  con- 
tend from  a  thirst  after  honourable  distinction,  or  a  desire 
to  win  the  approving  smile  of  beauty  ;  but  for  money,  to  be 
spent  in  taverns,  where  such  as  escape  the  dangers  of  the 
arena  usually  end  their  lives  in  brawls  by  the  knives  of  their 
companions. 

At  Madrid  the  bullfight  now  takes  place  in  an  edifice 
called  the  Plaza  de  Toros,  which  stands  upon  an  eminence 
without  the  gate  of  Alcala.  The  Plaza  is  of  a  circular 
form,  and  not  elliptical,  like  the  Roman  amphitheatres.  It 
differs  from  them,  too,  in  being  of  frail  and  paltry  con- 
struction, and  in  being  partially  covered  with  a  roof,  while 
the  amphitheatre  consisted  usually  of  huge  masses  of  un- 
cemented  granite,  with  no  other  shelter  than  a  canvass 
awning,  which  protected  the  audience,  but  left  the  arena 
uncovered.  The  extreme  diameter  of  the  Plaza  is  three 
hundred  and  thirty  feet ;  of  the  arena,  two  hundred  and 
twenty.  It  is  capable  of  containing  eleven -thousand  spec- 
tators. The  exterior  wall  is  of  brick,  but  the  barriers, 
benches,  and  pillars,  which  sustain  the  two  covered  galle- 
ries and  the  roof,  are  all  of  wood.  The  upper  gallery  is  di- 
vided into  commodious  boxes,  of  which  the  one  which  looks 
to  the  north,  and  is  never  shone  on  by  the  sun,  is  decorated 
with  the  royal  arms,  and  set  apart  for  the  king.  Beneath 
the  first  gallery  is  another  similar  to  it,  except  that  it  is 
not  divided  into  boxes,  but  is  left  open  the  whole  way 
round  ;  lower  still  is  a  succession  of  uncovered  benches, 
sloping  down  towards  the  lobby  which  encloses  the  arena. 
These  benches  make  the  complete  circuit  of  the  edifice, 
and  give  a  good  idea  of  the  Roman  amphitheatre. 

The  portion  of  the  Plaza  allotted  to  the  bulls,  horses, 
and  toreros,  is  of  very  simple  construction ;  the  arena  is 
18 


206  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

enclosed  by  a  barrier  six  feet  high,  surrounded  by  a  circu- 
lar lobby,  into  which  the  'combatants  escape  when  too 
hotly  pursued.  This  lobby  is  pierced  by  four  sets  of  fold- 
ing-doors, communicating  with  the  arena  and  the  different 
apartments  beneath  the  amphitheatre.  One  of  these  is  the 
toril,  where  the  bulls  are  enclosed  preparatory  to  the  com- 
bat. A  second  door  in  front  of  the  toril  gives  admittance 
to  the  alguazils,  who  act  as  marshals ;  a  third,  to  the 
horses  and  picadores  ;  while  through  a  fourth  are  dragged 
away  the  carcasses  of  the  victims. 

In  summer  the  bull-feast  usually  takes  place  in  the  morn- 
ing of  a  week-day,  which  is  spent  by  the  labouring  classes 
in  idleness  and  debauchery ;  in  winter,  on  Sunday  after- 
noon. The  winter  feasts  are  called  "  Corridas  de  Novil- 
los,"  because  only  young  bulls  are  then  brought  forward. 
The  style  of  the  handbill  issued  on  these  occasions  is  sin- 
gularly indicative  of  that  propensity  to  be  pompous  and 
bombastic,  which  the  Spaniards  ridicule  in  the  Portuguese, 
and  for  which  they  themselves  are  equally  remarkable.  It 
begins  thus  :  "  The  king  our  master,  whom  may  God  pre- 
serve, has  been  pleased  to  name  this  day  for  the  fifth  course 
of  novillos,  granted  by  his  majesty  for  the  benefit  of  his 
royal  hospitals  and  the  gratification  of  his  vassals.  His 
excellency,  the  corregidor  of  this  very  heroic  city,  will 
preside  over  the  Plaza.  The  function  to  commence  with 
two  valiant  novillos,  which  will  be  attacked  by  the  intrepid 
amateurs  Bernardo  Bermudez  and  Ramon  de  Rosa." 

This  modest,  invitation  was  always  sufficient  to  bring  to- 
gether several  thousand  motley  Madrilenos  and  Madrile- 
nas.  Few  or  none  of  the  Spanish  gentry  were  present  on 
these  occasions,  and  the  boxes  of  the  upper  row  were  al- 
most entirely  deserted.  I  do  not  know,  however,  whether 
they  continue  to  avoid  the  Plaza  in  summer,  when  the 
number  of  muertos  or  bulls  which  are  to  die  in  the  are- 
na, instead  of  two,  is  increased  to  six,  and  when  a  hotter 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  207 

sun  maddens  the  victims  into  deadlier  fury.  The  second 
row  was  usually  better  filled,  with  company,  however,  by 
no  means  select.  The  well-dressed  persons  were  chiefly 
strangers  belonging  to  the  different  legations,  intermingled 
with  officers,  royalist  volunteers,  shopkeepers,  and  women, 
congregated  together,  or  else  singly,  with  small  children  by 
the  hand,  and  not  a  few  with  infants.  Here  and  there,  too, 
one  might  see  a  dirty  priest,  who,  having  chanted  himself 
hoarse  in  the  morning,  comes  with  his  snuff  or  cigarillo  to 
pass  more  congenially  the  evening  of  the  Sabbath.  But 
the  uncovered  benches  of  the  patio  were  ever  filled  to  over- 
flowing with  the  populace ;  and  no  vagabond  ever  remained 
away  who  could  muster  the  two  reals  demanded  for  admis- 
sion, whether  by  stealing  or  starvation.  Here  the  canalla 
are  in  all  their  glory.  While  the  contest  lasts,  they  en- 
courage or  reprove  the  combatants,  applaud  or  bellow  at 
the  bull,  then  shout,  swear,  and  whistle  during  the  period 
of  the  interlude.  It  is  they,  in  fact,  who  give  a  tone  and 
character  to  the  whole  entertainment. 

The  hour  appointed  for  the  commencement  of  the  feast 
having  at  length  arrived,  the  corregidor  takes  his  seat  in 
the  royal  box,  supported  by  his  officers.  A  priest  also  re- 
mains in  waiting  with  "  su  Magestad,"  the  host,  ready  to 
administer  the  sacrament  to  the  dying  toreros.  The  trum- 
pets now  sound,  the  gate  under  the  royal  box  is  thrown 
open,  and  two  alguazils  enter  the  lists,  mounted  on  proud 
Andalusian  steeds,  whose  heads  are  half  hidden  under 
manes  parted  in  the  middle,  with  eyes  glaring  fiercely 
through  their  forelocks,  and  tails  which  sweep  the  arena. 
These  noble  animals  are  richly  caparisoned,  with  powerful 
bits,  peaked  saddles,  and  broad  stirrups,  after  the  manner 
of  the  East.  The  alguazils  have  their  black  wands  of  of- 
fice, and  are  dressed  in  cloak,  buskin,  slashed  sleeves,  ruf- 
fles, and  plumed  hat,  the  graceful  costume  of  Hernan  Cor- 
tcz  and  Gonzalo.  Having  ridden  round  the  lists  to  cleai 


208  A   YEAR    IN.  SPAIN. 

them  of  those  who  have  been  sweeping  and  sprinkling  the 
ground,  and  of  the  canalla  who  have  been  wrestling  and 
rolling  in  the  dust,  they  meet  each  other  in  the  centre,  and 
then  ride  to  the  box  of  the  corregidor,  before  which  they 
make  an  obeisance,  to  signify  that  every  thing  is  ready  for 
the  opening  of  the  feast.  Upon  this  the  corregidor  throws 
down  the  key  of  the  toril,  waves  his  handkerchief,  and  the 
music  stationed  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  amphitheatre 
sounds  a  march.  The  folding-gates  are  thrown  open  at 
the  left,  and  the  chulos  enter,  escorting  the  two  picadores. 

The  chulos,  or  cheats,  are  dressed  as  majos,  in  black, 
green,  or  crimson.  They  are  all  well-made  men,  and  are 
seen  to  peculiar  advantage  in  their  tight  dress,  ornamented 
with  bunches  of  riband  at  the  knees,  and  shoe-ties,  and  in 
the  hair.  Besides  a  worked  cambric  handkerchief  floating 
from  either  pocket,  each  chulo  wears  a  silk  cloak  of  green, 
red,  or  yellow,  which  serves  to  irritate  the  bull,  and  to  di- 
vert his  attention. 

The  picadores  wear  Moorish  jackets  embroidered  with 
gold,  large  flat  hats  of  white,  ornamented  with  roses  or  gay 
ribands,  and  which  are  confined  by  a  string  passing  round 
the  chin,  and  buckskin  pantaloons  lined  with  plates  of  ar- 
mour to  protect  the  leg.  Their  lance  is  long  and  heavy, 
with  a  small  three-cornered  point  of  steel  at  the  end.  This 
point  is  wound  round  with  yarn,  so  that  the  more  it  is  press- 
ed by  the  bull,  the  deeper  it  enters.  The  lance  of  the  pic- 
ador serves  to  turn  the  bull  off,  but  does  him  little  injury  ; 
indeed,  it  may  rather  be  looked  on  as  a  defensive  than  as 
an  offensive  weapon.  Thus,  in  the  contest  between  the 
bull  and  the  picador,  the  danger  is  altogether  on  the  side 
of  the  horse  and  his  rider.  The  picadores  enter  the  lists 
mounted  on  jaded  beasts,  which  are  evidently  within  a  few 
months  of  their  natural  death.  They  are  bought  for  a  few 
dollars,  part  of  which  the  proprietor  gets  back  by  the  sale 
of  the  skin.  When  brought  into  the  lists,  they  are  half 


A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  209 

» 

hidden  under  huge  Moorish  saddles,  which  rise  before  and 
behind,  near  a  foot  from  the  back,  in  order  to  strengthen 
the  seat  of  the  picador.  If  the  animal  has  a  good  eye  re- 
maining, he  blinds  it  with  his  pocket  handkerchief.  The 
attire  of  the  picador  is  usually  soiled  by  frequent  rolling  in 
the  dust ;  hence,  when  he  poises  his  lance  and  kicks  his 
limping  beast  forward,  by  dint  of  spur,  to  pay  his  devoirs 
to  the  corregidor,  his  whole  appearance  offers  a  striking 
contrast  to  the  gallant  bearing  of  the  alguazil. 

The  winter  feast  always  commenced  with  novillos  em- 
bolados,  whose  horns  were  covered  with  balls,  and  who 
overturned  the  picadores  and  their  horses  without  doing 
them  much  injury.  This  contest  is  sustained  usually  by 
novices,  whose  clumsy  efforts  to  turn  aside  the  bull  give  in- 
finite amusement  to  the  audience,  and  prepare  them  to  es- 
timate the  excellence  of  the  veteran  picadores,  who  come 
afterward  to  contend  with  the  muertos.  Indeed,  to  appre- 
ciate correctly  the  difficulty  of  any  task,  we  should  not  only 
see  it  well,  but  ill  executed.  The  novillos,  and  the  novices 
who  contend  with  them,  having  left  the  lists,  two  old  tore- 
ros ride  through  the  portal,  and  are  greeted  with  the  ap- 
plause of  the  multitude,  to  whom  they  have  been  rendered 
familiar  by  many  a  feat  of  skill  and  courage,  and  by  many 
a  scene  of  danger.  There  is  no  limit  to  the  lengths  to 
which  they  go  in  the  amphitheatre  to  give  effect  to  this 
force  of  contrast,  or  to  excite  attention  by  some  novel  fea- 
ture in  the  entertainment.  A  friend  who  visited  Madrid 
some  years  ago,  witnessed  the  rare  spectacle  of  two  women 
entering  the  lists  as  picadores.  One  of  them,  the  wife  of 
a  barber,  showed  great  courage,  and  turned  the  bull  off  re- 
peatedly, encouraged  by  enthusiastic  cries  of  "  Viva  la  bar- 
bera ! — Success  to  the  barber's  wife  !"  The  other,  not  hav- 
ing so  much  heart,  was  overturned  and  badly  wounded. 

To  give  a  general  idea  of  the  mode  of  attacking  the  bull, 
it  may  be  sufficient  to  describe  an  individual  fight,  by  far 
18* 


210  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

the  most  bloody  of  many  that  I  saw  in  Spain.  On  the  oc- 
casion to  which  I  allude,  the  bull,  though  he  bore  the  name 
of  novillo,  was  a  sturdy  beast  that  might  have  counted  a 
lustrum.  Though  not  large,  his  conformation  could  scarce 
have  been  more  powerful.  He  was  rather  lightly  built  be- 
hind, widening,  however,  in  span  towards  the  shoulders, 
which  served  as  foundation  to  a  thick  neck  and  short  head, 
armed  with  a  pair  of  horns,  which,  though  not  long,  were 
stout  and  well  pointed.  His  coat  was  of  a  rusty  brown, 
darkening  into  black  towards  the  neck  and  shoulders,  where 
it  became  thick  and  curly,  like  the  mane  of  a  lion. 

This  bull  had  taken  the  place  of  a  companion  who  had 
preceded  him  to  slaughter,  in  the  narrow  entry  which  leads 
from  the  toril  to  the  arena.  The  chulos  having  taken  their 
stand,  with  the  two  picadores  drawn  up  behind  them,  the 
signal  was  given,  and  the  trumpets  sounded  a  martial  flour- 
ish. The  gates  were  at  once  thrown  open  to  admit  a  pas- 
sage into  the  lists,  and  we  now  first  discovered  the  bull, 
such  as  I  have  described  him,  endeavouring  to  force  his 
way  through  the  iron  grate  which  separated  him  from  the 
toril.  The  poor  animal  had  been  tormented  by  separation 
from  his  flock,  by  confinement,  by  tortures  to  which  his 
lacerated  ears  bore  testimony,  and  by  desires  which  had 
been  pampered,  but  not  gratified.  At  this  moment  a  prick 
from  a  torero  in  the  lobby  caused  him  to  turn  about,  when 
he  discovered  a  clear  passage  into  the  lists,  and  rushed 
at  once  madly  in,  hoping,  doubtless,  that  he  had  at  last 
found  an  open  road  to  conduct  him  to  the  fertile  marshes 
of  the  Guadiana,  where  he  had  so  long  reigned  lord  of  the 
herd. 

This  moment  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  the  whole 
spectacle.  The  bull  is  seen  coming  forward  in  mad  ca- 
reer ;  his  tail  writhing  furiously,  his  head  down,  mouth 
foaming,  nostrils  wiJe  open  and  fiery,  and  eyes  glaring 
fiercely  through  the  matted  curls  of  his  forehead ;  while 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  211 

the  red  riband,  nailed  with  a  barbed  iron  to  his  neck,  flut- 
ters wildly  back,  and  serves  at  once  as  a  torture  and  de- 
vice. Having  reached  the  centre  of  the  arena,  he  discov- 
ers that  his  hope  of  escape  is  illusory  ;  he  pauses,  glares 
with  wonder  upon  the  multitude  drawn  up  in  a  continuous 
ring  around  him,  and  who  greet  his  arrival  with  shouts, 
whistling,  and  the  waving  of  garments.  But,  though  aston- 
ished, he  is  not  terrified.  Determined  to  make  good  his  re- 
treat, he  endeavours  to  accommodate  his  bewildered  eye  to 
the  broad  day  of  the  arena,  and  to  seek  out  an  enemy  upoa 
whom  to  wreak  the  first  efforts  of  his  fury. 

No  sooner  did  the  bull  discover  the  chulos,  fluttering 
their  gay  cloaks,  and  inviting  him  to  victory  by  showing  a 
disposition  to  fly  before  him,  than  he  made  after  the  near- 
est, at  the  top  of  his  speed.  The  chulo,  thus  warmly  pur- 
sued, waved  his  crimson  cloak  to  the  right  and  left,  to  re- 
tard the  progress  of  the  beast  by  rendering  it  unsteady,  and, 
having  with  difficulty  reached  the  barrier  without  being 
overtaken,  he  leaped  over  it  into  the  lobby.  The  escape 
of  the  chulo  was  by  no  means  premature  ;  the  bull  reached 
the  barrier  at  the  same  instant,  and  as  the  legs  of  the  fugi- 
tive were  vaulting  over,  his  horns  caught  the  fluttering  silk 
and  nailed  it  to  the  boards. 

Excited  by  victory,  the  bull  now  makes  for  the  picador. 
Here  is  another  situation  which  would  furnish  a  fine  study 
for  the  pencil.  The  picador  is  seen  drawn  up  at  a  short 
distance  from  the  barrier,  with  his  lance  grasped  tightly  in 
his  right  hand  and  under  the  arm,  and  presenting  the  right 
shoulder  of  his  horse  to  the  attack  of  the  bull.  Before  aim- 
ing his  blow,  the  bull  usually  pauses  a  moment  to  eye  his 
antagonist.  Then,  if  he  be  cowardly,  he  paws  the  ground, 
bellows,  and  makes  a  great  display  of  valour,  going  back- 
wards all  the  while,  as  if  to  gain  space  for  his  career ;  but 
in  reality  to  place  a  greater  distance  between  himself  and 
his  adversary.  Such,  however,  was  neither  the  character 


212  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

nor  conduct  of  the  bull  in  question ;  indeed,  no  sooner  had 
he  cleared  his  horns  of  the  cloak  of  the  chulo,  than  he 
rushed  towards  the  first  picador.  The  shouts  of  the  multi- 
tude now  gave  place  to  silent  glances  of  anxiety ;  for  the 
bull,  having  aimed  his  blow,  dropped  his  head  to  cover  it 
with  his  horns,  and,  shutting  his  eyes,  darted  upon  his  en- 
emy. This  first  effort,  however,  was  unsuccessfully  made, 
or  at  least  it  was  defeated  by  the  address  of  the  picador ; 
the  bull  was  met  by  the  lance  just  as  he  rose  on  his  hind 
legs  to  make  his  last  bound,  and  was  turned  dexterously 
aside.  Without  checking  his  career,  he  darted  at  once 
upon  the  second  picador,  drawn  up  behind  his  comrade. 
This  new  attack  was  more  successful.  The  lance  of 
the  picador  was  driven  in  by  force,  and  the  horns  of  the  in- 
furiated animal  entered  deep  into  the  side  of  his  victim. 
The  wounded  horse  now  turned  to  escape  in  the  direction 
opposite  to  that  whence  this  unseen  attack  had  come  ;  but 
he  was  instantly  overtaken  by  the  bull,  who,  goring  him  in 
the  flank,  and  tossing  his  head,  completely  overturned  both 
horse  and  rider.  But  the  fury  of  .the  animal  was  not  yet 
satisfied  ;  he  darted  upon  his  fallen  adversary,  and  most  un- 
luckily came  upon  that  side  where  lay  the  entangled  pica- 
dor, trampled  him  under  foot,  and  drove  his  horns  deep  into 
the  saddle.  The  anxiety  of  the  multitude  was  now  at  its 
height,  and  horror  was  plainly  painted  upon  every  counte- 
nance. The  men  rose  from  their  benches ;  some  of  the 
women  uttered  prayers  and  crossed  themselves,  while  such 
as  had  infants  clasped  them  tighter ;  at  this  moment  the 
chulos  came  up  with  their  cloaks,  and  drew  the  bull  to  an- 
other quarter  of  the  lists.  It  was  for  a  moment  uncertain 
whether  the  fallen  man  were  dead  or  living  ;  but  being  at 
length  raised  from  the  dust,  it  appeared  that  he  had  sus- 
tained no  serious  injury.  The  horse,  being  the  more  prom- 
inent object  of  the  two,  had  attracted  the  chief  attention  of 
the  bull ;  but  a  deep  rent  in  the  jacket  of  the  picador  show- 
ed how  narrow  had  been  his  escape. 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  213 

While  this  was  doing,  the  first  horseman,  who  had  turned 
the  bull,  rode  round  the  lists  to  take  his  place  in  the  rear 
of  his  comrade.  His  second  effort  to  turn  the  bull  was  less 
successful ;  probably  through  the  fault  of  the  horse,  which, 
being  imperfectly  blinded,  saw  the  approach  of  his  antag- 
onist, and  retreated  sidewise  before  him.  The  lance  of  the 
rider  was  forced  in,  and  the  bull,  darting  his  horns  into  the 
side  of  the  horse,  held  him  seciirely  to  the  barrier.  The 
picador,  now  abandoning  his  lance,  caught  the  top  of  the 
barrier,  and  being  assisted  by  people  from  without,  was 
drawn  over  into  the  lobby.  The  chulos  again  diverted  the 
attention  of  the  bull ;  he  released  the  horse,  and  the  wounded 
beast,  no  longer  supported  by  the  murderous  horns  which 
had  rendered  support  necessary,  staggered  sidewise  to- 
wards the  centre  of  the  lists.  At  each  step  the  blood  gush- 
ed in  a  torrent  from  behind  his  shoulder,  until  he  fell  mo- 
tionless to  the  earth.  The  saddle  and  bridle  were  at  once 
stripped  from  the  carcass  of  the  horse,  and  carried  away  to 
deck  out  another  for  the  same  doom. 

Meantime  the  second  picador  raised  his  horse  from  the 
ground,  reached  the  saddle  with  the  assistance  of  a  chulo, 
and  commenced  spurring  the  mangled  beast  around  the 
arena.  I  felt  more  for  this  poor  horse  than  I  had  for  his 
hireling  rider,  when  trampled  beneath  the  feet  of  the  bull ; 
he  was  a  beautifully-formed  animal,  once  doubtless  the 
pride  of  the  Prado,  and  fit  to  have  borne  a  Zegri  beneath 
the  balcony  of  his  mistress.  He  even  yet  showed  a  shadow 
of  his  former  grace,  and  something  of  his  former  ardour ; 
for  though  his  bowels  were  gushing  from  his  side,  and 
were  at  each  instant  torn  and  entangled  by  the  spur  of 
the  picador,  he  still  struggled  to  obey.  In  this  sad  condi- 
tion the  poor  horse  made  several  times  the  circuit  of  the 
lists,  his  bowels  getting  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  ground, 
until  they  actually  reached  it,  were  drawn  a  while  over  the 
dirt,  and  were  at  length  trampled  upon  and  torn  asunder  by 


214  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

liis  own  hoofs.  Even  yet  he  continued  to  advance,  and 
would  perhaps  have  stood  another  attack,  had  not  the  audi- 
ence, barbarous  as  it  was,  interceded  in  his  favour.  He 
was  led  staggering  away,  and  as  the  gates  closed  upon  him, 
we  even  lacked  the  poor  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  his 
sufferings  were  at  an  end. 

The  lists  were  now  cleared,  and  the  bull,  wandering 
about  unopposed,  came  at  length  to  the  spot  wet  with  the 
blood  of  his  comrade.  When  he  had  rooted  the  ground 
awhile,  he  turned  his  nose  high  into  the  air,  snuffed  the 
passing  breeze,  and  then,  having  sought  in  vain  to  discover 
the  passage  by  which  he  had  entered,  made  a  desperate  ef- 
fort to  leap  the  barrier.  He  was  very  nearly  successful ; 
his  body  for  an  instant  balanced  in  uncertainty  on  the  top, 
and  in  the  next  fell  back  into  the  arena.  The  new  hope 
thus  speedily  defeated,  he  bellowed  in  a  low  indistinct  tone, 
and  being  excited  by  the  taunting  shouts  which  greeted  his 
failure,  fell  to  wreaking  his  fury  upon  the  dead  body  of  his 
first  victim. 

By  this  time  the  picadores  were  again  mounted  and  in 
the  lists.  The  first  horse  was  forced  round  and  overtaken 
in  his  flight  as  before,  and,  being  gored  behind,  fell  back 
upon  his  rider.  The  chulos  with  their  cloaks  most  oppor- 
tunely diverted  the  attention  of  the  bull,  and  the  grooms  has- 
tened to  raise  the  wounded  horse,  and  drag  him  out  of  the 
lists.  The  thigh-bone  of  the  poor  animal  had  been  either 
broken  or  dislocated ;  the  leg,  being  useless  and  dangling 
behind,  he  was  forced  away  upon  the  three  which  remained 
to  him.  The  fate  of  the  next  horse  was  sooner  decided, 
and  was  even  more  shocking.  He  received-  a  single  gore 
in  the  belly ;  the  whole  of  his  bowels  at  once  gushed  out, 
and,  with  an  agonized  moan,  he  commenced  scratching  them 
convulsively  with  his  hoof  untilthey  were  completely  en- 
tangled. The  trumpets  gave  a  signal  for  a  change  in  the 
bloody  drama.  Hitherto  the  bull  alone  had  been  the  as- 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  215 

fiailant ;  he  was  now  in  his  turn  to  be  the  sufferer  and  the 
assailed.  Some  of  the  chulos,  having  laid  aside  their 
cloaks,  proceeded  to  arm  themselves  with  banderillas  :  light 
darts  which  have  a  barbed  point,  and  are  adorned  with  flut- 
tering papers  of  variegated  colours.  The  chief  art  in  pla- 
cing the  banderilla  is  to  make  the  bull  attack  ;  if  he  do  not, 
this  operation,  like  the  final  office  of  the  matadbre,  is  full  of 
danger  ;  for  a  capricious  motion  of  the  horns  by  a  cowardly 
bull  is  infinitely  more  to  be  dreaded  than  the  straightfor- 
ward career  of  a  claro,  or  brave  one. 

A  single  instance  may  show  the  danger  of  attacking  one 
of  these  treacherous  bulls.  El  Sombrerero,  thus  surnamed 
from  having  been  once  a  maker  of  hats,  was  for  some  years 
the  most  noted  matadore  in  Spain.  He  was  once  dealing 
•\\ith  a  bull  of  this  description,  when  the  animal,  by  an  ir- 
regular career,  passed  by  his  sword,  caught  him  upon  his 
horns,  and,  transfixing  him,  bore  him  bleeding  round  the 
arena.  He  at  length  was  disengaged  and  taken  off  insen- 
sible. Nevertheless  he  recovered  slowly,  and,  naturally 
enough,  forswore  his  profession.  But  the  taste  for  these 
sports,  and  perhaps  extravagant  habits  not  to  be  gratified  by 
the  narrow  earnings  of  a  hat-maker,  drove  him  back  at  last 
to  his  old  profession.  He  appeared  again  in  the  lists,  but 
no  longer  with  his  former  coolness  and  intrepidity.  I  saw 
him  afterward  in  Granada,  attacking  a  bull  of  the  same 
character  as  the  one  which  had  been  so  near  destroying 
him.  The  eccentric  charges  of  the  animal  and  his  own 
faltering  thrusts  rendered  his  situation  most  critical,  and  the 
audience  called  loudly  for  the  other  matadore.  This  roused 
him,  and  a  desperate  though  well-aimed  thrust  left  him  tri- 
umphant. I  wondered  more  that  he  should  have  been  able 
again  to  enter  the  arena,  than  that  he  should  no  longer  do  it 
with  his  former  intrepidity. 

But  the  bull  in  question  was  a  claro.  With  a  dart  there- 
fore in  each  hand,  one  of  the  chulos,  now  become  banderil- 


216  A   YEAR    1H    SPAIN. 

lero,  placed  himself  before  the  bull,  and  invited  him  to  at- 
tack by  brandishing  his  weapons.  When  at  last  the  bull 
rushed  with  closed  eyes  at  his  antagonist,  the  banderillero 
likewise  ran  to  meet  him,  and  directing  the  darts  at  each 
side  of  his  neck,  allowed  the  horns  of  the  animal  to  pass 
under  his  right  arm,  while  he  ran  away  to  gain  the  security 
of  the  lobby,  and  get  a  new  supply  of  banderillas.  With  the 
repetition  of  this  torture,  the  bull  became  madder  than  ever ; 
rubbed  his  neck  against  the  boards  of  the  barrier,  in  the 
rain  hope  of  alleviation;  a  hope  which  was  set  at  naught  by 
his  own  ill-directed  exertions,  or  by  the  malice  of  those  in 
the  lobby,  who  would  reach  over  and  force  the  darts  deeper, 
until  at  last  the  persecuted  beast  bounded  foaming  and  fran- 
tic about  the  arena. 

The  bravery  of  the  bull,  though  fatal  to  the  life  of  more 
than  one  victim,  can  never  avail  to  save  his  own.  Nor  can 
the  torments  he  has  suffered  be  urged  in  alleviation  of  his 
destiny.  The  laws  of  the  Plaza  are  inexorable  ;  his  name 
is  muerto,  and  the  red  riband  fluttering  from  his  neck  pro- 
claims that  he  must  die.  The  corregidor  is  seen  to  wave 
his  handkerchief,  the  trumpets  blow  a  warlike  blast,  and  the 
rnatadore  faces  his  antagonist. 

The  man  who  now  entered  the  lists  at  the  sound  of  the 
trumpet  was  no  oth,er  than  the  principal  matadore  of  Spain, 
Manuel  Romero  by  name.  He  was  a  short  man,  extremely 
well  made,  though  inclining  to  corpulence,  with  small  reg- 
ular features,  a  keen,  sure  eye,  and  such  an  air  of  cold- 
blooded ferocity  as  became  one  whose  business  it  was  to 
incur  danger  and  to  deal  death.  The  dress  of  Romero  was 
that  of  a  majo,  covered  with  more  than  the  usual  quantity 
of  lace  and  embroidery;  his  hair,  combed  backwards  and 
platted  into  a  flat  queue,  was  surmounted  by  a  bkck  cocked 
hat.  In  his  left  hand  he  held  a  sword,  hidden  in  the  folds 
of  a  banner  which  was  fastened  to  a  short  staff.  The  col- 
eur  of  this  banner  was  red,  deepened  here  and  there  into  a 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  217 

deadlier  die,  where  it  had  been  used  after  former  combats 
to  wipe  the  sword  of  the  matadore.  It  was  to  him  at  once 
a  trophy  and  a  buckler,  as  with  the  warriors  of  old,  who  car- 
ried their  achievements  emblazoned  on  their  shield. 

Romero  did  not  enter  with  the  air  of  one  who  knew  his 
own  force  and  despised  his  adversary  ;  nor  as  though  he 
had  to  hide  a  faint  heart  under  a  careless  brow ;  but  with 
a  fearless,  determined,  yet  quiet  step.  Having  approached 
the  box  of  the  corregidor,  he  took  off  his  hat  and  made  a 
low  obeisance  ;  then  returned  the  salutations  which  greeted 
him  from  the  whole  circuit  of  the  amphitheatre.  This  done, 
he  threw  his  hat  away,  brushed  back  a  few  hairs  which  had 
escaped  from  the  platting  of  his  queue,  stretched  his  limbs 
to  ease  the  elastic  tightness  of  his  costume,  and  then  taking 
his  well-tried  blade  from  beside  the  banner,  he  displayed  a 
long  straight  Toledano,  such  as  was  once  worn  by  cavaliers 
and  crusaders. 

Meantime  the  chulos  were  occupied  in  running  before  the 
bull,  and  waving  their  cloaks  in  his  eyes,  in  order  to  excite 
the  last  fit  of  ferocity,  which  was  to  facilitate  his  own  de- 
struction. In  this  way,  the  bull  was  enticed  towards  the 
spot  where  the  matadore  awaited  him.  The  latter,  holding 
out  the  banner,  allowed  the  animal  to  rush  against  it,  seem- 
ingly astonished  at  its  little  opposition.  This  was  twice 
repeated  ;  but  the  third  time  the  matadore  held  the  banner 
projecting  across  his  body,  while  with  his  right  hand  extend- 
ed over  the  top  he  poised  and  directed  the  sword.  Here  is 
the  last  and  most  interesting  moment  of  the  whole  contest ; 
the  multitude  once  more  rise  upon  the  benches.  All  eyes 
meet  upon  the  glittering  point  of  the  weapon.  The  bull 
now  makes  his  final  career ;  the  banner  again  gives  way 
before  him ;  his  horns  pass  closely  beneath  the  extended 
arm  of  the  matadore,  but  the  sword  which  he  held  a  mo- 
ment before  is  no  longer  seen ;  it  has  entered  full  length 
VOL.  I.— K  19 


218  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

beside  the  shoulder  of  the  bull,  and  the  cross  at  the  hilt  i* 
alone  conspicuous. 

Having  received  his  death-blow,  it  is  usual  for  the  bull 
to  fly  bellowing  to  the  extremity  of  the  arena,  and  there  fall 
and  die.  But  the  animal  which  had  this  day  sustained  the 
contest  so  nobly,  was  courageous  to  the  last.  He  contin- 
ued to  rush  again  and  again  with  blind  fury  at  the  matadore, 
who  each  time  received  the  blow  on  his  deceptive  buckler, 
laughed  scornfully  at  the  impotent  rage  of  his  victim,  and 
talked  to  him  jestingly.  The  admiration  of  the  audience 
was  now  complete,  and  cries,  whistling,  and  the  cloud  of  dust 
which  rose  from  the  trampled  benches,  mingled  with  *he 
clang  of  trumpets  to  proclaim  the  triumph  of  the  matadore. 

A  few  more  impotent  attacks  of  the  bull,  and  his  strength 
began  to  pass  away  with  the  blood,  which  flowed  fast  from 
his  wound,  spread  itself  over  his  shoulder,  and  ran  down 
his  leg  to  sprinkle  the  dust  of  the  arena.  At  length  he 
could  no  longer  advance ;  the  motion  of  his  head  became 
tremulous  and  unsteady ;  he  bowed  to  his  fate,  paused  a 
moment  upon  his  knees,  and  then  with  a  low  moan  settled 
upon  the  ground.  At  this  moment  a  vulgar  murderer  came 
from  behind  the  barrier,  where  he  had  hitherto  remained 
in  security.  He  caught  the  animal  by  the  left  horn,  then 
aiming  a  certain  blow  with  a  short  wide  dagger,  he  drove 
it  deep  into  the  spine.  A  convulsive  shudder  for  a  moment 
thrilled  over  the  whole  frame  of  the  victim,,  and  his  tor- 
ments were  at  an  end. 

At  this  moment  the  gates  on  the  right  were  thrown  op«n, 
and  three  mules  rushed  in,  harnessed  abreast,  and  covered 
with  bells,  flags,  and  feathers.  Their  driver  hastened  to 
fasten  a  strap  round  the  horns  of  the  dead  bull,  and  drag- 
ged him  to  where  lay  the  carcasses  of  the  two  horses. 
Having  tied  a  rope  about  their  necks,  he  lashed  his  team 
into  a  gallop,  and  the  impatient  beasts  stirred  up  a  cloud  of 
dust,  and  left  a  wide  track  to-  mark  the  course  which,  had 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  219 

been  passed  over  by  the  conqueror  and  the  conquered. 
The  canalla,  too,  who  had  jumped  into  the  lists  to  sport 
•with  the  novillos,  unmindful  that  the  animal  which  to-day 
furnished  them  with  amusement,  would  to-morrow  supply 
them  with  food,  now  jumped  upon  him,  greeted  him  with 
kicks,  and  even  fastened  upon  his  tail.  Trumpets  had  an- 
nounced the  entry  of  the  bull ;  trumpets  are  again  heard  at 
his  departure.  But  who  can  recognise,  in  the  unresisting  car- 
cass which  now  sweeps  the  arena,  the  proud  beast  which  a 
few  minutes  before  overturned  every  thing  before  him  ? 

Scarcely  had  the  gate  closed,  when  the  trumpets  once 
more  sounded,  and  a  novillo  embolado,  or  young  bull,  with 
balls  on  the  ends  of  his  horns,  was  let  into  the  lists,  to  be 
baited  by  the  ragged  rabble.  Now  begins  a  most  singu- 
lar scene.  The  bull,  taunted  by  the  waving  of  jackets, 
cloaks,  and  mantas,  pursues  and  tramples  upon  one,  tosses 
another  into  the  air,  and  dragging  a  third  along  by  the 
cloak,  at  length  escapes  with  a  portion  of  the  tatters  hang- 
ing to  his  horns,  to  the  infinite  amusement  of  all  except  the 
sufferer,  who,  if  he  be  not  hurt,  is  beset  and  banged  for  his 
clumsiness  by  the  mantas  of  his  companions. 

I  had  seen  enough  of  ihis,  and  was  turning  away  in  dis- 
gust to  leave  the  amphitheatre,  when  I  was  met  by  the  mat- 
adore  Romero,  who  had  concealed  his  gala  dress  under  a 
capa  parda.  He  made  at  once  towards  a  pretty  girl  in  a 
black  mantilla,  who  sat  near  me  during  the  whole  enter- 
tainment. Having  unfolded  his  cloak  and  made  his  obei- 
sance, Romero  presented  her  with  a  small  iron  barb,  strung 
with  a  red  riband.  The  whole  iron  was  stained  with  blood, 
and  the  riband  was  the  same  fatal  device  which  had  flut- 
tered from  the  neck  of  the  last  muerto. 

"  Pan  y  toros  ! — Bread  and  bulls  !"  exclaims  the  philos- 
opher Jovillanos,  like  the  Roman  of  old,  in  lamenting  the 
fallen  fortunes  of  his  country.  The  Spaniards  have  still  their 
bull-feast,  but  where  shall  we  look  for  the  spirit  of  the  Cid  ? 
K2 


220  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE    FA6EO. 

The  Prado— The  Fountains — The  Paseadores— The  Madriletia  and  Mad- 
rileno— The  Cloak  and  Mantilla — Equipages — Royal  Cortege — Moral 
of  the  Paseo—  Feast  of  St.  Anthony — The  Promenade — Convent  of  Es- 
culapius — Charms  and  Benedictions — Blessing  the  Barley — Beggars — 
Blind  Men— The  Lottery— The  Hog-Lottery— The  Meuionalista. 

AMONG  the  most  important  "  funciones"  of  Madrid,  for 
so  the  Spaniards  call  their  public  amusements,  and  in  gen- 
eral whatever  brings  together  a  crowd,  is  the  "  paseo,"  or 
stated  walk,  which  is  taken  daily  by  the  wealthy  classes, 
and  on  Sundays  and  festivals  by  the  whole  population. 
There  are  several  public  promenades  within  and  about  the 
city,  such  as  the  Florida,  which  lies  without  the  walls, 
along  the  sheltered  banks  of  the  Manzanares,  and  the  De- 
licias,  which,  leaving  the  gate  of  Atocha,  passes  through  a 
double  row  of  trees,  until  it  reaches  the  canal  of  Manzana- 
res and  Xarama.  This  canal  was  commenced  by  Charles 
III.,  with  a  view  to  open  a  water-communication  between 
Madrid  and  Toledo.  To  effect  this,  it  was  necessary  to 
make  the  canal  four  leagues  long ;  but  the  first  half  only 
has  been  completed,  and  at  present,  instead  of  being  a 
source  of  utility  and  wealth,  it  only  serves  to  keep  up  an 
expensive  establishment  for  the  amusement  of  the  royal 
family,  who  go  every  year  or  two  to  be  drawn  along  the 
canal  in  a  gilded  galley.  This  establishment  is  situated 
at  the  extremity  of  the  Delicias,  and  bears  the  high-sound- 
ing name  of  Embarcadero.  It  has  an  imposing  entrance, 
surmounted  by  sculptured  bales,  barrels,  ropes,  and  anchors, 
and  all  the  other  emblems  of  commerce.  Royal  marines 
are  seen  with  anchor  buttons,  standing  sentry  at  the  gate, 


A  TEAR   IN    SPAIN.  221 

and  there  is  neither  flagstaff,  nor  piles  of  shot,  nor  cannon 
wanting,  to  constitute  a  perfect  naval  arsenal. 

The  principal  promenade,  however,  is  the  Meadow,  or 
Prado.  This  now  delightful  resort  was,  so  late  as  the  last 
century,  nothing  more  than  a  broken  and  uneven  waste,  fre- 
quented by  politicians  or  lovers  for  such  deeds  and  consulta- 
tions as  required  secrecy.  Here,  too,  has  been  committed 
many  an  act  of  treachery,  in  the  unsuspecting  confidence 
inspired  by  the  seclusion.  For  these  reasons  it  is  the  spot 
where  the  Spanish  dramatists  and  romance-writers  have  fre- 
quently laid  the  scene  of  their  inventions  ;  and  it  may  very 
well  be,  that  often  they  did  no  more  than  embellish  incidents 
which  had  actually  occurred  in  the  Prado.  Charles  III.,  the 
most  beneficent  of  Spanish  kings,  with  a  view  to  reclaim 
this  place  from  its  state  of  prostitution,  had  it  levelled  at 
great  expense,  and  planted  with  rows  of  elms  and  chestnuts, 
which,  being  artificially  watered,  soon  grew  to  a  noble  size. 
He  likewise  provided  it  with  marble  benches,  enlivened 
it  with  many  beautiful  fountains,  and,  in  short,  converted  it 
into  the  charming  resort  which  is  now  the  pride  and  pleas- 
ure of  Madrid,  and  the  admiration  of  all  Europe. 

The  Prado  begins  at  the  neat  gate  of  Recoletos,  and 
takes  its  course  southward,  between  monasteries  and  pal- 
aces, as  far  as  the  street  of  Alcala,  which  crosses  it  at  right 
angles.  The  street  of  Alcala  is  the  finest  in  Madrid,  nay, 
I  have  even  heard  it  called  the  finest  in  Europe.  It  has  a 
gradual  declivity  from  the  Puerta  del  Sol,  widening  as  it 
approaches  the  Prado ;  on  either  hand  are  churches,  con- 
vents, public  buildings,  and  palaces  of  the  grandees  and 
ambassadors.  Crossing  the  Prado,  it  once  more  ascends, 
and  is  terminated  by  the  triumphal  arch  of  Alcala,  erected 
to  commemorate  the  happy  arrival  of  Charles  III.  from  his 
kingdom  of  Naples,  to  receive  the  crown  of  Spain  ;  a  noble 
monument,  finely  situated  on  an  eminence,  and  adorned  with 
ten  Ionic  columns,  after  models  left  by  Michael  Angelo. 
19* 


222  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

At  the  angle  formed  by  the  Prado  and  the  street  of  Al- 
cala  is  a  large  fountain, entirely  of  marble.  In  the  centre 
of  the  basin  a  rocky  islet  emerges  out  of  the  water,  on  which 
is  a  stately  Cybele  in  a  chariot  drawn  by  lions.  Hence  to 
the  street  of  San  Geronimo,the  Prado  is  enclosed  on  one  side 
by  gardens  and  palaces,  on  the  other  by  the  railing  of  the 
Retiro.  The  two  avenues  of  noble  trees,  which  run  paral- 
lel to  each  other,  enclose  a  wide  place  for  walking,  called 
the  Saloon,  and  immediately  beside  it,  the  road  for  car- 
riages and  horsemen.  Here  is  a  fountain  surmounted  by  a 
colossal  statue  of  Apollo,  while  below  the  Four  Seasons 
are  beautifully  and  appropriately  characterized.  Opposite 
is  an  unfinished  monument  to  the  Spaniards  who  were  there 
massacred  in  mass  by  the  bloody  order  of  Murat,  on  the  fa- 
mous Dos  de  Mayo. 

Farther  on  is  the  finest  fountain  of  Madrid.  It  repre- 
sents Neptune  riding  over  his  watery  dominion  ;  his  chariot 
being  a  conch-shell  resting  on  water-wheels,  about  the  pad- 
dles of  which  the  real  element  is  thrown  off  by  numerous 
jets,  as  though  it  were  dashed  from  the  sea.  It  is  drawn 
by  two  sea-horses,  that  seem  to  dash  impetuous  through  the 
waves.  Vegetation  has  fastened  itself  to  the  joints  of  the 
marble,  and  the  plants  emblematic  of  the  sea  are  overgrown 
with  moss.  Even  live  fishes  are  seen  sporting  about  and 
rubbing  their  silvery  sides  against  the  marble  scales  of 
those  which  owe  their  existence  to  the  imitative  creation 
of  the  sculptor ;  and  the  real  and  artificial  are  so  happily 
blended  throughout,  that  the  beholder  is  for  a  moment  puz- 
zled to  draw  the  distinction. 

Having  passed  the  fountain  of  Neptune,  the  road  makes 
an  angle  to  the  east,  and  brings  you  to  the  museum  of  stat- 
uary and  painting,  with  its  noble  colonnade  following  the 
course  of  the  Prado.  Next  is  the  botanic  garden,  in  which 
are  collected  all  the  vegetable  productions  of  a  kingdom 
upon  which  but  a  few  years  ago  the  sun  never  set.  In 


A   TEAR   IN    SPAIN.  223 

summer  a  gratuitous  course  of  lectures  on  botany  is  deliver- 
ed here  for  the  benefit  of  the  public.  The  garden  is  sur- 
rounded by  an  open  railing  of  iron,  which  gives  passage  to 
a  thousand  varied  perfumes,  and  rather  improves  than  con- 
ceals the  beauties  which  lie  within.  Continuing  along  the 
Prado,  you  come  at  length  to  the  gate  of  Atocha,  where 
there  is  another  fine  fountain,  enlivened  by  the  amorous 
gambols  of  a  Triton  and  a  Nereid.  Nor  does  the  Prado  end 
here,  but,  having  made  a  second  angle  to  the  east,  it  ter- 
minates only  at  the  convent  of  Our  Lady  of  Atocha,  for 
whose  image  the  pious  Ferdinand  embroidered  a  votive  pet- 
ticoat during  his  exile,  and  whose  peaceful  inmates  are  now 
often  disturbed  by  the  military  reviews  which  take  place 
beneath  the  windows  of  their  sanctuary.  In  this  convent 
lie  the  bones  of  the  good  Las  Casas,  the  apostle  of  the  In- 
dies, but  without  either  monument  or  inscription  to  mark 
their  resting-place. 

The  whole  extent  of  the  Prado  falls  little  short  of  two 
miles.  Hence  it  furnishes  a  variety  of  promenades  suited 
to  every  mood  and  every  disposition.  The  seclusion  of 
Atocha  is  frequented  by  priests  in  their  long  hats  and  sable 
capas,  who  gather  in  gloomy  triangles  about  the  hermitage 
of  Saint  Bias,  talk  over  the  perils  of  the  church,  and  con- 
trive schemes  to  prop  the  overgrown  and  unsteady  edifice. 
Moping  misanthropy  seeks  the  solitude  of  Recoletos,  con- 
templates with  a  morbid  and  envious  eye  the  lively  throng 
of  the  Saloon,  and  riots  in  the  luxury  of  unhappiness.  The 
neighbourhood  of  the  Botanic  Garden  is  frequented  by  a  far 
different  class  ;  ladies  who,  having  abandoned  their  coaches 
at  the  gate  of  Atocha,  come  with  their  children  to  benefit  by 
the  air  and  exercise.  Here  a  lad,  in  a  soldier's  cap,  rides 
upon  a  stick,  and  lashes  it  into  a  gallop  with  a  wooden 
sword  ;  another  manosuvres  a  mimic  tartana,  drawn  by  a 
panting  dog,  hung  round  with  bells,  and  whose  hair  is  as 
neatly  washed  and  combed  as  though  he  were  one  of  the 


224  A  TEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

family ;  while  there,  a  little  girl  supports  her  doll  against 
the  railing  of  the  garden,  endeavours  to  draw  it  into  dis- 
course, and  seeks  in  vain  a  reciprocation  of  her  tenderness. 

But  the  Saloon  is  by  far  the  most  remarkable  portion  of 
the  Prado.  It  is  the  great  resort  whither  all  the  world 
throngs  to  see  and  to  be  seen.  Here  may  be  found  every 
variety  of  priest  or  friar,  the  long  hat  of  the  curate,  and  the 
longer  beard  of  the  capuchin.  Here  rank  displays  its  stars, 
its  crosses,  and  its  ribands  ;  the  trooper  rattles  his  sabre, 
curls  his  mustaches,  and  stares  fearlessly  around  him  ;  and 
here  woman  shines  out  in  all  her  charms  and  coquetry. 
Here,  too,  the  multitude,  decked  out  in  their  best,  come  on 
a  feast-day  with  decent  looks  and  behaviour,  to  be  amused 
at  a  cheap  rate,  and  to  contribute  to  the  general  joy  by  the 
assurance  of  its  unlimited  diffusion.  The  ladies  usually 
come  to  the  Paseo  in  small  parties  of  two  or  more,  under 
the  escort  of  an  old  aunt  or  mother.  They  are  not  gener- 
ally attended  by  gentlemen,  but  have  on  either  side  a  va- 
cancy which  their  friends  occupy  while  they  inquire  after 
their  health,  and  make  with  them  one  or  more  turns  of  the 
Saloon.  And  here  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  say  something 
of  the  women  of  Madrid. 

The  Madrilena  is  rather  under  than  above  the  middle 
size,  with  a  faultless  shape,  which  is  seen  to  great  advantage 
through  the  elastic  folds  of  her  basquina.  Her  foot  is, 
however,  her  chief  care,  for,  not  content  with  its  natural 
beauty,  she  binds  it  with  narrow  bandages  of  linen,  so  as  to 
reduce  it  to  smaller  dimensions,  and  give  it  a  finer  form. 
Though  her  complexion  be  pale,  it  is  never  denied  by 
rouge.  Her  teeth  are  pearly,  lips  red,  eyes  full,  black,  and 
glowing.  Her  step  is  short  and  quick,  yet  graceful,  and 
the  rapid  action  of  her  arms,  as  she  adjusts  her  mantilla  or 
flutters  her  fan,  is  but  a  just  index  to  the  impatient  ardour 
of  her  temperament.  As  she  moves  forward,  she  looks 
with  an  undisturbed  yet  pensive  eye  upon  the  men  that 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  225 

surround  her ;  but  if  you  have  the  good  fortune  to  be  an 
acquaintance,  her  face  kindles  into  smiles ;  she  beams  be- 
nignantly  upon  you,  and  returns  your  salute  with  an  inviting 
shake  of  her  fan  in  token  of  recognition.  Then,  if  you 
have  a  soul,  you  lay  it  at  once  at  her  feet,  and  are  ready  to 
become  her  slave  for  ever. 

Nor  are  the  men  who  have  been  formed  and  fashioned 
in  such  a  school  at  all  wanting  in  the  graces.  No  one, 
indeed,  can  be  more  happy  in  female  intercourse  than  the 
Spaniard  ;  for  to  the  polite  assiduities  of  the  Frenchman, 
he  adds  a  fervour  and  passionate  devotion,  that  go  straight 
to  the  heart  of  a  lady.  It  is  this  show  of  good  under- 
standing between  the  youthful  cavaliers  and  dames,  the 
lively  sallies  and  gallantries,  but,  above  all,  these  soul-sub- 
duing looks  and  winning  salutations,  which  lend  the  chief 
charm  to  the  concourse  of  the  Prado. 

On  these  occasions  the  women  are  invariably  dressed  in 
the  national  costume.  Indeed,  though  at  balls  and  theatres 
the  Parisian  modes  are  adopted  by  the  higher  class,  yet  at 
the  Paseo  one  sees  nothing  but  the  fan,  mantilla,  and  bas- 
quina.  The  men,  too,  wear  ample  capas,  or  cloaks,  which 
they  handle  with  great  dexterity,  and  throw  into  a  thousand 
graceful  folds.  Indeed,  in  Spain,  the  handling  of  the  fan 
and  the  wearing  of  the  mantilla  with  the  women,  and  the 
easy  management  of  the  capa  among  the  men,  are  a  kind 
of  second  nature,  which  has  grown  up  with  them ;  nay,  it 
is  even  said  that  a  French  woman,  with  all  her  elegance, 
cannot  arrive  at  the  graceful  carriage  of  the  mantilla ;  and 
that  a  stranger,  who  should  cover  himself  with  a  cloak  in 
order  to  pass  for  a  native,  would  thus  be  most  easily  recog- 
nised. The  capa  is  worn  in  winter  to  keep  out  the  cold, 
and  not  unfrequently  in  summer  as  a  shelter  from  the  sun. 
Indeed,  it  may  rather  be  looked  on  as  a  part  than  as  an  ap- 
pendage of  a  true  Spaniard.  In  cold  weather  it  is  worn 
with  the  right  skirt  thrown  over  the  left  shoulder ;  au  im- 
K3 


226  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

portant  action  in  Spain,  which  is  especially  expressed  by 
the  word  "  embozarse" — to  cover  the  mouth.  At  the  thea- 
tre, or  in  mild  weather,  the  cloak  is  more  gracefully  car- 
ried by  letting  it  hang  entirely  from  the  left  shoulder,  and 
passing  the  right  skirt  across  the  left  one,  and  gathering 
both  under  the  left  arm,  leaving  the  right  free  and  unembar- 
rassed. Such  a  dark  combination  of  mantilla,  basquina, 
and  capa,  produces,  however,  a  monotony  of  colouring  very 
unfavourable  to  the  distant  effect  of  this  spectacle.  This 
was  so  striking  to  the  French  soldiers  when  they  first 
came  to  Madrid,  that  they  were  used  to  say  that  they  had 
at  length  reached  a  truly  Catholic  city,  peopled  only  by 
monks  and  nuns. 

The  Spaniard  derives  his  capa  from  the  romantic  days 
of  the  nation,  when  the  seclusion  forced  upon  the  fair  by 
the  jealousy  of  fathers  and  of  husbands  awakened  ingenu- 
ity, and  gave  a  stimulus  to  intrigue.  Hence  the  advantage 
of  a  garment  whose  folds  could  conceal,  not  only  the  wear- 
er, but  even,  upon  emergency,  his  mistress.  The  capa, 
too,  has  often  lent  itself  to  the  purposes  of  malevolence,  has 
often  covered  the  ruthless  knife  of  the  mercenary  assassin. 
To  such  an  extent,  indeed,  was  this  evil  carried,  that  in  the 
last  century  the  use  of  the  capa  was  forbidden,  and  patrols 
scoured  the  streets  of  the  capital  to  make  prisoners  of  such 
as  wore  it.  But  the  Spaniard  could  not  quit  his  cloak ;  a 
mutiny  was  the  consequence  of  the  forced  separation,  and  the 
authorities  were  compelled  to  yield.  It  is  still  universally 
worn  in  Spain,  and  much  might  be  said  in  favour  of  its 
convenience.  But  why  should  I  make  the  apology  of  the 
capa,  since  it  would  be  more  reasonable  to  ask  why  it  is 
not  worn  everywhere. 

Those  who  make  the  Paseo  in  carriages  drive  up  and 
down  in  double  file  between  the  streets  of  Alcala  and  San 
Geronimo,  along  the  whole  extent  of  the  Saloon.  The  in- 
termediate space  between  the  two  files  is  reserved  for  cav. 


A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  227 

airy  officers  and  young  nobility,  who  take  advantage  of  the 
assemblage  and  the  watchful  presence  of  beauty  to  show 
off  the  good  qualities  of  a  horse,  or  their  own  graceful  equi- 
tation. A  company  of  lancers  with  gay  pennons,  or  cui- 
rassiers with  glittering  corslets  and  Grecian  helmets,  are 
always  in  attendance  to  enforce  the  arrangements,  without 
which  there  would  be  nothing  but  confusion.  The  vehi- 
cles, to  the  number  of  several  hundred,  are  of  every  va- 
riety ;  among  which  are  the  elegant  carriages  of  the  diplo- 
matic corps,  of  the  most  modern  construction,  with  a  liveried 
coachman  and  Swiss  footman,  flanked  by  a  chasseur  with 
a  pair  of  epaulets,  a  hunting  sword,  and  cocked  hat,  sur- 
mounted with  green  feathers.  Most  of  the  carriages,  how- 
ever, are  in  the  old  Spanish  style,  not  very  different,  in- 
deed, from  the  first  one  used  in  Spain  by  the  good,  or  good 
for  nothing,  Queen  Joanna  the  Foolish.  The  body  is 
square  and  formal,  ornamented  in  a  sort  of  Chinese  taste, 
and  is  not  unlike  a  tea-chest.  It  is  sustained  by  leathern 
straps,  of  which  the  only  spring  is  derived  from  their 
great  length ;  for  which  purpose  they  are  placed  at  such 
a  distance  from  each  other  that  they  scarce  seem  to  be 
parts  of  the  same  vehicle.  As  these  primitive  carriages 
were  built  in  remote  ages,  long  before  the  invention  of 
folding-steps,  the  entrance  to  them  is  facilitated  by  a  little 
three-legged  stool,  which  dangles  by  a  strap  behind,  and 
which,  when  the  carriage  stops,  the  footman  hastens  to 
place  in  readiness  beside  the  door.  Nor  is  the  attelage  of 
this  singular  vehicle  less  worthy  of  notice.  It  usually  con- 
sists of  a  pair  of  fat  and  long-eared  mules,  with  mane,  hair, 
and  tails  fantastically  cut,  driven  by  a  superannuated  postill- 
ion, in  formidable  jack-boots,  and  not  less  formidable  cocked 
hat  of  oilcloth,  reaching  towards  each  other  as  if  to  shake 
hands  and  be  on  neighbourly  terms.  Such  an  old  carriage 
as  this  is  one  of  many  things  that  I  saw  in  Spain  which 
•were  at  variance  with  the  transitory  tastes  and  ever-chaa- 


228  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

ging  customs  of  my  own  country.  Indeed,  when  I  looked 
at  it,  I  could  scarce  persuade  myself  that  the  coach,  the 
mules,  and  the  postillion  had  not  existed  always,  and  would 
not  continue  for  ever  to  make  each  day  the  circuit  of  the 
Prado. 

Such  is  the  Saloon,  and  such  the  Prado.  Nothing,  in- 
deed, can  be  finer  than  the  range  of  the  eye  from  the  foun- 
tain of  Cybele,  on  the  afternoon  of  a  feast-day.  At  your 
back  is  the  gate  of  Recoletos,  standing  at  the  extrem- 
ity of  a  double  avenue  of  trees ;  on  the  right  is  a  hill,  as- 
cending by  the  street  of  Alcala  towards  the  Gate  of  the 
Sun ;  on  the  left  the  same  street,  making  a  second  ascent, 
and  terminated  by  the  noble  arch  of  triumph.  The  whole 
road  is  thronged  with  soldiers  in  varied  uniforms,  and  peo- 
ple in  picturesque  costumes,  from  the  various  provinces  of 
Spain.  The  Saloon,  too,  is  crowded  to  overflowing,  while 
in  the  distance  are  partially  discovered  the  museum  and 
botanic  garden  through  the  vistas  of  the  trees  ;  and  in  the 
interval,  Neptune,  half  concealed  by  the  spray  thrown  up 
before  him,  is  seen  urging  his  watery  steeds. 

At  such  a  moment  the  arrival  of  the  king,  surrounded  by 
a  pageantry  unsurpassed  by  any  court  in  Europe,  serves  to 
crown  the  splendour  of  the  spectacle.  His  coming  is  first 
announced  by  drum  and  trumpet,  as  he  passes  the  various 
guard-rooms  which  lie  in  the  way,  and  presently  by  the  ar- 
rival of  an  avant-courier,  who  rides  forward,  without  looking 
to  either  side,  in  the  road  which  his  master  is  to  follow. 
Next  comes  a  squadron  of  young  nobles  of  the  body-guard, 
mounted  on  beautiful  horses  from  the  royal  stables,  which 
are  chiefly  of  the  caste  of  Aranjuez  ;  and  immediately  after, 
a  gilded  carriage  drawn  by  six  milk-white  steeds,  covered 
with  plumes,  and  with  manes  and  tails  that  are  full  and 
flowing.  They  are  mounted  and  controlled  by  postillions, 
richly  dressed  in  jockey-suits  of  blue  and  gold.  Within, 
the  Catholic  king  is  discovered  seated  on  the  right,  con- 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  229 

spicuous  by  his  stars,  his  blue  scarf,  and  the  golden  fleece 
which  dangles  from  his  neck.  He  glances  round  on  the 
multitude  with  a  look  of  mingled  apathy  and  good-humour, 
and  salutes  them  mechanically  by  putting  his  hand  up  to- 
wards his  nose  and  taking  it  down  again,  as  though  he 
were  brushing  the  flies  away.  At  his  left  is  the  queen, 
looking  too  good  for  this  wicked  world.  Next  comes  Don 
Carlos,  the  heir  apparent,  drawn  by  six  cream-coloured 
horses,  more  beautiful  than  those  of  his  brother.  He  grins 
horribly  through  his  red  mustaches,  and  frightens  those 
whom  he  intends  to  flatter.  Beside  him  is  his  wife,  a  large, 
coarse  woman,  with  heavy  beetling  eyebrows.  In  the  third 
coach  are  Don  Francisco  and  his  wife,  drawn  by  six  no- 
ble blacks.  In  the  fourth  the  Portugueza,  with  her  young 
son  Don  Sebastian ;  after  which  come  some  four  or  five 
coaches,  each  drawn  by  six  mules,  and  which  contain  the 
lords  and  ladies  in  attendance.  The  whole  is  numerously 
escorted  by  cavaliers  of  the  body-guard,  and  grooms  of  the 
royal  service.  The  arrival  of  the  royal  family,  like  the 
passing  of  the  host  or  the  tolling  of  the  angelus,  usually  ar- 
rests every  one  in  the  situation  in  which  it  may  find  him. 
The  line  between  the  carriages  is  at  once  cleared,  through 
the  exertions  of  the  cavalry,  and  the  vehicles  on  either  side 
pause  until  their  majesties  have  passed.  Those  who  are 
walking  turn  their  faces  towards  the  road ;  the  gentlemen, 
unroll  the  embozo  of  their  cloaks,  and  take  their  hats  ofT, 
while  the  women  shake  their  fans  in  passing  salutation. 

In  winter  the  Paseo  takes  place  at  noon,  and  continues 
until  dinner.  In  spring  and  summer  it  commences  at  sun- 
set, and  is  not  entirely  over  until  after  midnight ;  for  the 
Spaniards  usually  pass  the  siesta  of  the  hot  season  in  sleep, 
and  then,  having  dressed  themselves,  they  sally  out  in  the 
evening  fresh  and  buoyant.  I  was  so  unfortunate  as  to 
leave  Madrid  just  at  the  close  of  winter,  when  returning 
vegetation  denoted  the  approach  of  a  happier  season,  and 
20 


230  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

thus  missed  the  pleasure  of  passing  a  summer's  evening  on 
the  Prado.  But  I  heard  much  upon  the  subject ;  for  Flo- 
rencia,  when  she  urged  my  longer  stay,  drew  a  vivid  pic- 
ture of  its  attractions.  It  appears  that  in  that  season  the 
walks  are  carefully  sprinkled  in  anticipation  ;  and  if  it  be 
a  feast-day,  the  fountains  throw  their  waters  higher.  In 
the  evening  chairs  are  placed  in  readiness,  in  which  the 
ladies  take  their  seats  in  circles,  and  hold  their  tertulias 
under  the  trees.  Bareheaded  boys  circulate  with  lighted 
matches  for  the  accommodation  of  the  smokers,  and  agua- 
dores  are  at  hand,  with  water  that  is  fresh  and  sparkling. 
Valencians  offer  oranges  and  pomegranates ;  old  women 
praise  their  dulces,  or  sweetmeats,  for  which  the  Madri- 
lenas  have  quite  a  passion,  while  the  waiters  of  a  neigh- 
bouring cafe  bring  ices  and  sherbets  to  refresh  the  palates 
of  the  thirsty.  Children  are  heard  on  every  side,  collected 
in  noisy  groups,  at  their  pleasant  games  and  pastimes,  while 
the  humbler  crowd  seat  themselves  in  circles  under  the 
trees,  strum  their  guitars,  and  tune  their  voices,  to  make 
music  for  a  light-heeled  couple,  who  trip  it  gayly  in  the 
midst.  Meantime,  the  falling  waters  of  the  neighbouring 
fountains  impart  a  coolness  to  the  air,  which  comes  per- 
fumed from  the  neighbouring  botanic  garden  with  the 
aromas  of  every  clime,  and  burdened  with  the  song  of  the 
nightingale. 

Who  can  say  enough  in  praise  of  the  Paseo  ?  It  fur- 
nishes an  amusement  at  once  delightful  and  innocent,  and 
from  which  not  even  the  poorest  are  excluded,  a  school 
where  the  public  manners  are  softened  and  refined  by  so- 
cial intercourse  and  mutual  observation  ;  where  families 
meet  families,  and  friends  meet  friends,  as  upon  a  neutral 
ground,  inform  themselves  of  each  other's  affairs,  unre- 
strained by  ceremonial,  and  keep  alive  an  intimacy  without 
the  formalities  of  visiting.  In  these  delightful  associations, 
persons  of  every  rank  and  calling  forget  their  exclusive 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  231 

pretensions,  while  the  softer  sex,  to  whom  belong  the  at- 
tributes of  modesty  and  grace,  banish  indecorum,  and  shed 
a  charm  over  th&  whole  assemblage. 

In  addition  to  the  stated  daily  Paseo  upon  the  Prado, 
there  are  in  the  course  of  the  year  at  Madrid  several  peri- 
odical ones  ;  such  as  when  the  devout  go  on  the  day  of  San 
Bias  to  make  their  prayers  at  the  hermitage  of  that  illus- 
trious saint  and  bishop.  Another  takes  place  on  Saint  An- 
thony's day,  when  all  the  world  promenades  in  front  of  the 
convent  of  San  Antono-Escolapios,  in  the  street  of  Horta- 
leza.  I  had  the  rare  fortune  to  witness  this  spectacle,  and, 
much  as  I  had  seen  of  Spain,  it  appeared  to  me  most  sin- 
gular. It  may,  perhaps,  appear  not  less  so  to  the  reader. 
The  fact  is,  that  Saint  Anthony,  though  a  very  good  man, 
was  both  poor  and  a  labourer.  Hence,  when  beatified  by 
the  father  of  the  church,  and  pronounced  to  be  actually  in 
the  fruition  of  heaven,  and  in  a  situation  to  intercede  for 
sinners,  the  stigma  of  his  worldly  humility  still  clung  to 
him,  so  that  he  never  became  any  more  than  a  vulgar  saint, 
the  patron  of  the  common  people  in  Spain,  to  whom  he  is 
familiarly  known  by  the  nickname  of  Sant  Anton.  More 
especially  is  he  the  protector  of  farmers,  horse-jockeys, 
muleteers,  mules,  and  asses,  cows,  hogs,  and  horses.  Nay, 
he  is  even  the  saint  of  the  sinful  sailor,  who,  when  he  has 
more  wind  than  he  wants,  and  a  rough  sea,  begs  Saint  An- 
thony to  take  some  of  it  back  again  ;  and  if  he  has  none  at 
all,  being  a  Spaniard,  and  aware  of  the  efficacy  of  a  bribe, 
he  says,  "  Sopla  !  sopla !  San  Anton,  y  le  dare  un  pez — 
Blow  !  blow,  Saint  Anthony,  and  you  shall  have  a  fish !" 

Saint  Anthony's  day,  if  I  remember  rightly,  falls  some- 
where in  the  month  of  January.  In  Madrid  it  was  a  com- 
plete feast-day,  though  I  believe  a  voluntary  one ;  for  in 
addition  to  the  many  prescribed  feasts  in  Spain,  upon  which 
it  is  unlawful  to  do  any  labour,  there  are  likewise  several 
when  the  people  might  work  if  they  would ;  but  it  is  so 


232  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

much  harder  to  work  than  to  let  it  alone,  that  many  follow 
the  latter  course  by  preference,  or  else  fall  into  it  while 
they  are  thinking  about  the  matter.  On  the  present  occa- 
sion the  street  of  Hortaleza  was  early  paraded  by  squad- 
rons of  filthy  celadores  or  gendarmes,  who  maintained  or- 
der among  the  throng.  It  was  not,  however,  until  noon 
that  the  promenade  of  the  wealthy  commenced,  and  then 
carriages  arid  horsemen  were  intermingled  with  the  pedes- 
trians, as  we  have  seen  upon  the  Prado. 

Many  of  those  who  took  part  in  this  function  came  to  pro- 
cure a  charm  or  receive  a  benediction  ;  more  to  be  amused 
by  the  spectacle.     Having  been  drawn  in  by  a  current  of 
devotees,  I  was  forced  to  enter  the  church  door,  stumbling 
over  two  or  three  beggars  that  strewed  the  way,  and  found 
myself  in  a  crowd  consisting  chiefly  of  females,  who  were 
kneeling  before  a  table,  at  which  presided  a  jolly  friar, 
muttering  a  spell  and  crossing  them  with  a  bone  of  Saint 
Anthony.     As  each  rose  from  her  knees,  she  threw  a  piece 
of  money  into  a  box,  and  then  passed  to  where  a  young 
Levite  sold  consecrated  rosaries  and  charmed  scapularies, 
to  hang  about  the  necks  of  children  ;  also,  a  lame  ballad  in 
praise  of  Saint  Anthony.     Having  gone  through  all  the  mo- 
tions like  the  rest,  I  turned  to  look  upon  the  massive  walls 
around  me,  which,  in  addition  to  many  gloomy  paintings  and 
statues,  were  everywhere  hung  with  wax  models  of  arms, 
legs,  feet,  or  babies ;  votive  offerings  to  procure  alleviation 
of  suffering  in  correspondent  parts  of  the  body,  the  cure  of 
a  sick  baby,  or  a  happy  delivery.     These  waxen  offerings 
form  no  inconsiderable  item  of  revenue  to  such  convents  as 
are  noted  for  miracles ;  for  when  a  good  number  is  accu- 
mulated, they  are  melted  down  indiscriminately,  feet,  heads, 
and  babies,  and  made  into  candles,  which  are  paid  for  at  a 
good  price  on  the  occasion  of  a  funeral  mass,  when  the 
corpse  is  surrounded  by  wax  tapers,  in  numbers  proportion- 
ate to  the  rank  and  dignity  of  the  dead  man     It  was  here, 


A  YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  233 

too,  if  I  mistake  not,  that  I  saw  in  a  chapel  the  picture  of 
a  naval  officer,  in  sword,  chapeau,  and  small-clothes,  rep- 
resented as  kneeling  on  the  steps  of  the  same  altar  near 
which  the  picture  was  hanging.  Getting  behind  a  column, 
I  copied  the  following  inscription,  which,  for  aught  I  know, 
may  have  been  traced  by  one  of  the  heroes  of  Trafalgar. 
"  El  capitan-de-navio  de  la  real  armada  Don  Benito  Vivero, 
hallandose  afligido  de  una  enformedad  nervosa,  acudio  al 
Senior  y  luego  el  alivole.  Enero,  1818. — Captain  Vivero, 
commander  of  a  ship  of  the  line  in  the  royal  navy,  being 
afflicted  with  a  nervous  disorder,  sought  succour  of  the 
Lord,  and  immediately  found  alleviation." 

This  is  in  the  interior  of  the  convent.     On  the  outside 
the  beneficent  influence  of  the  saint  was  not  confined  to 
man,  but  extended  to  the  whole  brute  family,  of  which  he 
was  the  patron.     Here  a  friar  of  the  order,  more  remarka- 
ble for  being  well  fed  than  cleanly,  and  who  had  altogether 
the  gross  and  sensual  look  of  a  man  of  this  world,  quali- 
fied with  a  good  share  of  plebeian  vulgarity,  stood  at  a  win- 
dow with  a  small  mop  in  his  hand,  with  which  he  sprink- 
led holy  water  upon  such  as  passed.     A  continuous  string 
of  horses,  mules,  and  asses  defiled  through  the  street,  paus- 
ing in  turn  to  receive  the   genial  shower.      Each  rider 
brought  a  sack  of  barley,  which  the  friar  and  his  men  lifted 
into  the  window,  where  it  was  moistened  with  the  holy 
water,  and  well  stirred  with  a  relic  of  Saint  Anthony.     It 
was  then  returned  :  the  friar  received  a  peseta,  which  he 
put  carefully  into  the   sleeve  of  his  frock,  while  the  other 
party  to  the  bargain  trotted  off  with  the  barley,  happy  in 
the  assurance  that  his  cattle  might  now  be  cured  of  any 
malady,  even  though  bewitched,  by  administering  a  hand- 
ful of  this  consecrated  grain.     It  was  quite  amusing  to  see 
the  different  moods  in  which  the  various  animals  received 
the  wholesome  application.     A  horse,  as  he  was  forced  up 
to  the  window,  would  rear  and  plunge  for  fear  of  the  friar ; 
20* 


234  A  YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

a  mule  would  either  kick,  or  go  sidewise,  or  rub  the  legs 
of  his  rider  against  the  wall,  rather  from  perverseness  than 
timidity ;  but  Jack,  like  a  sensible  fellow,  would  busy  him- 
self in  picking  up  the  fallen  grains  of  his  predecessor,  or 
hold  his  head  down  and  take  it  patiently.  Indeed,  you 
may  do  any  thing  with  an  ass,  provided  you  do  not  touch 
his  ears ;  but  this  is  a  discovery  which  I  made  afterward 
in  Andalusia. 

Most  of  the  people  who  stood  nigh  were  amused  with 
this  display  of  monkish  jugglery.  None,  however,  seemed 
more  sensible  to  the  ridicule  of  the  scene  than  a  noisy 
crew  of  boys,  who  had  collected  under  the  window.  Grasp- 
ing the  iron  rejas,  they  clambered  up  in  order  to  see  better, 
until  the  illnatured  friar  lost  at  once  his  patience  and  self- 
possession,  and  drove  them  down  by  dashing  holy  water 
into  their  eyes.  Thus,  the  boys  got  for  nothing,  and  a  few 
hearty  curses  into  the  bargain,  what  the  muleteers  were 
buying  with  their  pesetas.  Nor  were  there  wanting  others 
who  seemed  scandalized  and  indignant  that  strangers 
should  witness  this  degradation.  One  haggard  and  pro- 
scribed-looking  fellow,  with  a  long  beard  and  a  tattered 
cloak,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said  to  me  with  energy, 
"  Estas  son  tonterias  Espanolas  ! — These  are  Spanish  fool- 
eries !" 

But  the  most  singular  appendage  of  this  function  of  Saint 
Anthony  was  the  host  of  beggars  collected  in  front  of  the 
convent.  On  this  occasion  I  recognised  many  whom  I  had 
seen  at  particular  stands,  as  I  made  my  rambles  over  the 
city.  Decrepit  old  men  and  helpless  women,  each  hover- 
ing over  an  earthen  dish  of  embers,  obstructed  the  way,  so 
that  it  was  difficult  to  enter  the  portal  without  treading  upon 
them  ;  an  accident  which  they  seemed  to  esteem  fortunate, 
since  it  was  sure  to  be  followed  by  remuneration.  They 
had  forgotten  all  their  every-day  supplications  in  the  name 
of  Maria  Santisima  del  Carmen ! — La  Virgen  del  Pilar !  or 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  235 

Santiago  Apostol ! — for  now,  adapting  their  song  to  the  oc- 
casion, they  begged  only  for  the  love  of  Saint  Anthony. 
The  generous  received  the  thanks  of  the  mendicant,  who 
prayed  "  that  all  might  go  well  with  him,  that  he  might 
have  health  in  body  and  in  soul,  which  is  the  true  riches, 
and  finally,  that  he  might  be  delivered  from  mortal  sin." 
The  uncharitable  were  snarled  at  by  some,  and  more  skil- 
fully reproached  by  others,  who,  wishing  to  make  an  im- 
pression upon  those  who  came  after,  restrained  their  indig- 
nation, and  prayed  that  God  would  bestow  wealth  and  hon- 
ours upon  the  churl,  that  he  might  have  wherewith  to  give 
to  the  miserable. 

There  is,  perhaps,  nothing  with  which  the  stranger  is 
more  struck  and  more  offended  in  Madrid,  than  with  the 
extent  of  mendicity.  There  is,  indeed,  abundance  of  hos- 
pitals and  infirmaries,  where  the  poor  of  the  city  might 
all  be  received  and  taken  care  of.  But  they  are  not  subject 
to  compulsion  ;  and  such  is  the  charm  of  liberty,  that  many 
prefer  to  roam  about,  depending  upon  the  casual  charity  of 
the  wayfarer,  to  comfortable  quarters  and  regular  meals, 
coupled  with  the  conditions  of  seclusion  and  discipline. 
Unfortunately,  the  facility  of  gaining  a  subsistence  in  Spain 
by  begging  is  so  great,  that,  notwithstanding  the  national 
pride,  many  able-bodied  men  prefer  it,  with  all  its  degrada- 
tion, to  the  irksome  task  of  daily  labour.  This  facility 
comes  in  part  from  the  practices  of  certain  conscientious 
Christians,  who  give  each  day  a  portion  of  their  abundance 
to  the  poor ;  some  from  a  mistaken  sense  of  piety,  others 
through  remorse  for  evil  actions.  The  most  prominent 
cause,  however,  of  this  evil,  is  found  in  the  daily  distribu- 
tion of  food  at  the  gates  of  churches  and  convents.  No 
sight,  indeed,  can  be  more  degrading  than  the  one  which  I 
have  often  witnessed  at  the  gate  of  San  Isidro,  the  church 
and  college  of  the  Jesuits.  There,  at  the  hour  of  noon,  a 
familiar  brings  out  a  copper  caldron  filled  with  soup,  which 


236  A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

he  serves  round  in  equal  portions  to  each  of  the  hungry 
crew  brought  together  by  the  occasion.  Should  a  scram- 
ble take  place  for  precedence,  the  familiar  soon  restores 
order,  by  dashing  the  hot  soup  among  them  with  his  long 
iron  ladle. 

From  all  these  reasons,  Madrid  abounds  in  beggars. 
There  is  not  a  frequented  street  or  corner  in  the  city  that 
is  not  the  habitual  stand  of  some  particular  occupant,  and 
even  the  charms  of  the  paseo  are  too  often  qualified  by  their 
unwelcome  intrusion.  They  enter  boldly  into  every  house 
where  there  is  no  porter  to  stop  them  at  the  vestibule,  and 
penetrate  to  the  doors  of  the  different  habitations,  where  they 
make  their  presence  known  by  a  modest  ring  of  the  bell. 
Though  often  greeted  at  first  with  a  sound  scolding,  they  sel- 
dom go  away  empty-handed,  especially  if  they  happen  to  ap- 
peal to  a  woman  ;  for  the  female  heart  is  easily  opened  by  a 
story  of  misfortune.  I  had  occasion  to  see  this  in  the  house 
where  I  resided  ;  for  the  daughter  of  my  host,  when  she 
found  her  door  thus  besieged,  would  be  exceedingly  angry 
for  a  moment ;  but  if  a  poor  wretch  stood  his  ground  and 
grew  eloquent,  she  would  at  length  soften,  the  frown  would 
vanish  from  her  brow,  and  ejaculating  "  Pobrecito !"  she 
would  hurry  away  to  bring  some  cold  meat  or  a  roll  of 
bread.  The  successful  beggar  would  then  kiss  the  gift  de- 
voutly, and  say  with  feeling,  as  he  turned  away,  "  Dios  se 
lo  pagara ! — God  will  reward  you !" 

The  churches,  however,  are  the  most  frequented  stands 
of  the  beggars.  They  always  collect  in  the  morning  about 
the  doors  and  near  the  holy  water,  which  they  take  from 
the  basin  and  offer  on  the  ends  of  their  fingers,  or  with  a 
brush  made  for  the  purpose,  to  such  as  come  up  to  mass  or 
confession.  These  poor  wretches  have  doubtless  found 
from  experience  that  the  most  pious  are  likewise  the  most 
charitable. 

However  one  may  be  prejudiced  against  this  system  of 


A  YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  237 

mendicity,  it  is  impossible  for  him,  if  he  have  any  compas- 
sion, to  move  untouched  through  the  streets  of  Madrid ; 
misery  assumes  so  many  and  such  painful  aspects,  and  one 
is  so  often  solicited  by  the  old,  the  infirm,  the  macerated, 
nay,  I  had  almost  said,  by  the  dying.  In  my  winter  morn- 
ing walks  down  the  street  of  Alcala,  to  make  a  turn  through 
the  solitary  alleys  of  the  Prado,  I  used  to  see  a  poor  ema- 
ciated wretch,  who  seemed  to  haunt  the  sunny  side  of  the 
street,  and  seat  himself  upon  the  pavement,  rather  to  be 
warmed  after  a  long  and  chilly  night,  spent,  perhaps,  upon 
the  stones  of  some  courtyard,  than  to  beg  from  the  few  who 
passed  at  that  early  hour.  Though  sinking  rapidly  into 
decay,  he  was  yet  a  very  young  man,  scarce  turiied  of 
twenty ;  and,  while  his  red  hair  and  fair  complexion  be- 
spoke the  native  of  Biscay  or  Asturias,  the  military  trou- 
sers which  he  wore,  unless  the  gift  of  some  charitable 
trooper,  showed  that  he  had  been  a  soldier.  When  any 
one  passed,  he  would  stretch  out  his  hand  and  move  his 
lips,  as  if  asking  charity  ;  but  whether  his  voice  were  gone, 
or  that  he  was  not  used  to  beg,  he  never  uttered  more  than 
an  inarticulate  rattle.  I  had  several  times  intended  to  ask 
a  story,  which  must  doubtless  have  been  a  sad  one ;  but 
ere  I  had  done  so,  the  poor  fellow  ceased  to  return  to  his 
usual  stand.  The  last  time  I  saw  him  he  was  crawling 
slowly  down  a  cross  street,  bent  nearly  double,  and  sup- 
porting his  unsteady  steps,  as  he  went,  with  a  staff  in  ei- 
ther hand. 

At  the  coming  out  of  the  theatre  of  Principe,  a  little  girl, 
bareheaded  and  with  naked  feet,  though  in  the  midst  of 
winter,  was  in  the  habit  of  patrolling  the  street  through 
which  the  crowd  passed.  She  usually  finished  her  night's 
task  by  returning  home  through  our  street,  begging  as  she 
went.  Frequently,  when  I  had  just  got  into  bed,  and  was 
yet  shivering  with  cold,  would  I  hear  her  shrill  and  pier- 
cing voice,  borne  upon  the  keen  wind,  and  only  alternated 


238  A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

by  an  occasional  footfall,  or  by  the  cry  of  the  sereno  as  he 
told  the  hours ;  "  A  esta  pobrecita  para  comprar  zapatos ; 
que  no  tiene  padre  ni  madre  '.—For  this  poor  little  creature 
to  buy  shoes  ;  she  has  neither  father  nor  mother !"  Many 
were  the  contributions  which  she  thus  levied  upon  the  char- 
itable ;  but  the  winter  wore  away,  and  still  she  went  about 
barefooted,  and  still  she  begged  for  money  to  buy  shoes. 

The  road  from  the  Gate  of  the  Sun  to  the  library  was 
the  habitual  stand  of  a  young  man,  a  deaf  mute,  who  sat 
cross-legged  in  a  gray  capote,  with  his  hat  before  him  and 
a  bell  in  his  hand.  The  sense  of  his  misfortune,  of  his 
complete  separation  from  the  rest  of  the  human  family, 
seemed  to  have  tinged  his  character  with  a  degree  of  bru- 
tal ferocity ;  at  least,  such  was  the  expression  of  his  coun- 
tenance. He  took  no  notice  of  those  who  gave  to  him,  but 
sat  all  day  in  one  of  the  coldest  streets  of  the  city,  ringing 
his  bell  and  uttering  sounds,  which,  as  he  knew  not  how 
to  modulate  them  so  as  to  strike  a  tone  of  supplication, 
came  harshly  upon  the  ear,  like  nothing  so  much  as  the 
moans  sent  forth  by  the  wounded  victims  of  the  arena. 

A  sturdy  wretch,  in  the  garb  of  Valencia,  constantly  in- 
fested the  Calle  Montera,  placing  himself  along  the  narrow 
sidewalk  of  flag-stones  reserved  for  foot-passengers.  Here 
he  would  stretch  himself  on  his  side  flat  upon  the  cold 
pavement,  with  nothing  between  his  head  and  the  stones 
but  a  matted  mass  of  uncombed  hair  and  the  tatters  of  a 
handkerchief.  His  body  was  rolled  in  a  blanket,  and  a 
young  child  of  a  year  or  two,  either  his  own  or  hired  for 
the  occasion,  raised  its  filthy  head  beside  him.  But  the, 
most  disgusting  part  of  the  picture  was  a  diseased  and 
nearly  naked  leg,  thrust  out  so  as  to  cut  off  the  passage  of 
the  walkers,  and  drive  them  into  the  middle  of  the  street. 
The  man  was  well  made  and  able-bodied,  and  his  sores 
were  doubtless  carefully  kept  from  healing,  for  they  con- 
stituted the  stock  in  trade,  the  fortune  of  the  mendicant 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  239 

This  miscreant  was  my  greatest  eyesore  in  Madrid  ;  stretch- 
ed out  as  I  have  described,  the  child  was  always  crying, 
either  from  the  intense  cold,  or  because  its  legs  were 
pinched  beneath  the  blanket;  while  the  wretch  himself 
shouted  in  an  imperative  tone,  and  without  the  intervention 
of  any  saint,  "  Me  da  usted  una  limosna  !" — which,  taking 
the  manner  into  consideration,  amounted  to,  "  Give  me  alms, 
and  be  damned  to  you  !" 

But  the  most  singular  instance  of  mendicity  I  have  ever 
seen  was  furnished  by  a  couple  whom  I  one  day  met  in 
the  Red  San  Luis.  The  principal  personage  was  a  large 
blind  man,  whose  eyelids  were  turned  up  and  fiery,  and 
who  carried  upon  his  shoulders  a  most  singular  being,  with 
an  immense  head  and  a  pair  of  thin  elastic  legs,  which 
were  curled  and  twisted  round  the  neck  of  his  compan- 
ion. The  fellow  overhead  carried  a  bundle  of  ballads, 
which  both  were  singing  at  the  top  of  their  lungs.  Behind 
them  came  a  patient  ass,  tied  to  the  girdle  of  the  blind  man, 
and  loaded  with  their  effects,  as  though  they  were  pas- 
sing through  on  their  way  to  some  other  place,  or  were 
coming  to  make  some  stay  in  the  capital.  They  seemed  to 
manage  very  well  by  thus  joining  their  fortunes  ;  for  while 
the  blind  man  effected  their  locomotion,  the  cripple  shaped 
their  course,  jesting  with  the  other  beggars  and  blind  men 
whom  they  met,  and  holding  out  his  hat  to  receive  the  of- 
fering of  the  charitable.  Their  bodies  were,  indeed,  so 
twisted  and  entangled  as  to  give  at  first  the  idea  of  a  single 
being,  forming  a  real  .combination,  almost  as  monstrous  as 
the  fabled  one  of  the  Centaur. 

The  most  numerous  class  of  mendicants  in  Madrid  is  the 
blind ;  and  they  are  also  the  most  worthy  of  pity,  since 
their  misfortune  is  always  involuntary.  For,  though  we 
know  on  better  authority  than  that  of  Don  Guzman  de  Al- 
farache,  that  beggars  will  sometimes  deform  their  bodies 
and  cultivate  sores,  yet  is  there  no  record  of  one's  having 


240  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

voluntarily  parted  with  his  eyes.  They  endeavour,  too,  to 
render  themselves  useful  by  hawking  ballads  about  the 
streets,  and  crying  the  number*  of  such  lottery  tickets  as 
may  yet  be  purchased.  Nor  are  they  so  filthy  as  the  rest 
of  the  beggarly  brotherhood  ;  since  their  misfortune,  being 
such  as  to  speak  for  itself,  needs  not  the  appendage  of  rags 
to  excite  pity.  It  was  not  the  least  amusing  sight  com- 
manded from  my  balcony,  to  look  down  upon  the  Puerta 
del  Sol,  and  watch  the  blind  men  as  they  moved  about  with 
the  most  perfect  confidence.  When  one  of  them  wanted  to 
pass  from  a  particular  spot  to  one  of  the  eight  streets  which 
discharge  themselves  there,  he  would  take  his  station  at 
the  corner,  and  having  felt  the  angle  of  the  building,  and 
noticed,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  the  bearing  of  the  sun  and  the 
direction  of  the  wind,  he  would  set  out  and  move  onward 
with  the  utmost  precision,  his  staff  extended  before  him, 
and  the  fingers  of  his  left  hand  bent  wistfully,  as  if  the  sen- 
sibility of  the  whole  body  were  concentrated  in  their  ex- 
tremities. Once  I  saw  two  of  them,  who  were  going  in 
opposite  directions,  knock  their  staves  together,  and  meet 
in  the  middle.  They  knew  each  other  at  once,  shook 
hands  cordially,  and  had  a  long  conversation,  doubtless  con- 
cerning the  gains  and  adventures  of  the  morning,  for  they 
are  the  most  garrulous  beings  in  all  Spain.  This  over, 
they  compared  their  reckonings,  like  two  ships  exchanging 
their  longitudes  at  sea,  and  then  went  on,  each  arriving  ex- 
actly at  his  respective  destination. 

Blindness  is  not  peculiar  to  the  lower  classes  in  the  cen- 
tral region  of  Spain.  Many  people  in  the  middle  and 
higher  walks  of  life  are  thus  afflicted,  and  the  paseo  is  daily 
frequented  by  them,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  a  servant  or  a 
friend.  I  was  so  much  struck  with  the  number  of  the  blind 
in  Madrid,  as  to  seek  a  cause  for  it  in  the  ardent  energy  of 
the  sun  in  this  cloudless  region,  combined  with  the  naked 
and  unsheltered  condition  of  the  country.  Indeed,  though 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  241 

I  was  not  in  Madrid  in  the  hot  season,  I  frequently  found 
inconvenience  to  my  eyes,  from  walking  along  the  sandy 
roads  which  surround  the  capital.  Peyron,  however,  in  his 
sprightly  essays,  attributes  the  evil  to  the  intemperate  use 
of  bleeding  among  the  Spaniards ;  a  practice  which  is 
scarcely  less  prevalent  now  than  in  the  days  of  Dr.  San- 
grado,  at  least  if  one  may  judge  from  the  number  of  per- 
sons whose  business  it  is  to  draw  blood ;  for  every  street 
in  Spain  has  its  barber,  and  every  barber  bleeds.  Peyron 
tells  us  that  it  is  quite  common  to  hear  a  Spaniard  say, 
when  questioned  concerning  the  health  of  a  friend, "  Pedro 
was  a  little  unwell  yesterday ;  but  he  has  been  bled  four 
times,  and  is  now  better." 

If  rank  and  wealth  cannot  avert  this  affliction,  neither 
can  they  avail  when  associated  with  youth  and  beauty.  I 
chanced  to  meet  one  evening  at  a  ball  in  Madrid  a  lovely 
girl,  scarce  ripened  into  womanhood,  who  was  quite  blind. 
She  was  somewhat  under  the  middle  size,  with  the  form 
of  a  sylph,  and  features  that  the  uncontrolled  pencil  of  the 
painter  could  scarce  have  formed  fairer.  Her  eyes,  too, 
did  not  bear  testimony  to  their  own  imperfection,  but  had 
only  a  pensive,  melancholy  air,  which  they  seemed  to  bor- 
row from  their  half-closed  lids  and  silken  lashes.  I  had 
from  the  first  been  struck  with  the  appearance  of  this  young 
unfortunate ;  but  when  I  knew  her  affliction,  my  interest 
was  at  once  augmented.  There  was,  indeed,  something 
inexpressibly  touching  in  her  condition,  as  she  wandered 
from  room  to  room,  leaning  with  confidence  upon  the  arm 
of  her  mother.  How  truly  hard  to  be  thus  cut  off  from  so 
many  sources  of  innocent  enjoyment ! — to  be  insensible  to 
the  brilliancy  of  the  illumination,  to  the  richness  of  the  or- 
naments, to  the  various  dresses  and  decorations  suggested 
by  fancy  or  authorized  by  rank,  to  the  rivalling  charms  and 
jewels  of  the  beautiful,  to  the  looks  of  mingled  solicitude 

VOL.  I.— L  21 


242  A  YEAR   IN   SPAUf. 

and  admiration  directed  towards  her  by  the  other  sex,  nay, 
perhaps,  to  be  even  unconscious  of  her  own  loveliness ! 

She  could,  however,  at  least  hear  the  kind  words  ad- 
dressed to  her  by  her  acquaintance  ;  she  could  appreciate 
better  than  any  other  the  excellence  of  the  music.  Nor 
did  her  affliction  exclude  her  from  the  dance  ;  for  when- 
ever the  formal  movements  of  the  quadrille  were  alternated 
by  the  more  graceful  waltz,  she  allowed  herself  to  be  con- 
ducted into  the  circle  formed  by  those  who  had  gathered 
round  to  admire  the  harmony  of  her  execution.  None,  in- 
deed, moved  in  the  circling  eddies  with  so  rare  a  grace  ; 
and  when,  towards  the  conclusion,  the  time  became  more 
rapid,  and  the  feet  of  the  dancers  moved  quicker,  none 
spurned  the  carpet  with  so  true  a  step.  There  was  a  con- 
fiding helplessness  about  this  lovely  creature  more  truly 
feminine  than  any  thing  I  had  yet  seen  in  woman.  The 
waltz,  too,  which  she  so  beautifully  executed,  seemed  to 
gain  a  new  fascination,  and  now,  if  ever  called  upon  to 
make  its  eulogy  or  to  plead  its  defence,  I  have  a  triumphant 
argument  by  saying  that  it  may  be  danced  by  a  blind  girl. 

In  speaking  of  the  amusements  of  Madrid,  gaming  should 
not  be  forgotten,  since  it  is  there,  as  throughout  the  Penin- 
sula, an  all-pervading  passion,  which  extends  to  every  age, 
sex,  and  condition.  Indeed,  so  general  is  it,  that  it  may  be 
said  to  reach  even  the  most  destitute  ;  for  I  scarcely  ever 
went  into  the  streets  of  Madrid  without  seeing  groups  of 
boys,  beggars,  and  ragamuffins,  collected  in  some  sunny 
corner,  each  risking  the  few  cuartos  he  possessed  in  the 
attempt  to  win  those  of  his  companions.  The  most  com- 
mon way  of  playing,  however,  is  by  means  of  the  lottery, 
which  here,  as  in  many  other  European  countries,  is  an  ap- 
pendage of  the  state.  The  principal  lottery,  called  the  Mod- 
ern, is  divided  into  twenty-five  thousand  tickets,  which  are 
sold  at  two  dollars  each.  One  fourth  of  the  nett  amount  of 
fifty  thousand  dollars,  produced  by  the  sale  of  the  tickets, 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  243 

is  taken  off  by  government,  to  pay  the  expenses  of  the  cen- 
tral administration,  and  of  the  numerous  offices  established, 
like  the  estancos,  for  the  sale  of  tobacco,  in  every  street 
of  the  capital,  and  in  every  town  of  the  kingdom.  The 
balance  remaining  after  these  disbursements  forms  an  im- 
portant item  of  the  public  revenue.  There  are  eight  hun- 
dred and  thirty-seven  prizes,  the  highest  being  of  twelve 
thousand  dollars.  The  Modern  Lottery  draws  at  the  end 
of  each  month ;  a  circumstance  which  you  never  fail  to  be 
apprized  of  by  the  blind  beggars  who  assemble  about  the 
doors  of  the  lottery-offices,  or  at  the  principal  corners,  and 
fill  the  whole  city  with  uproar.  The  cause  of  this  commo- 
tion is,  that  they  learn  from  the  keepers  of  the  lottery  what 
tickets  are  still  for  sale,  and,  selecting  two  or  three  at 
hazard,  get  them  set  down  upon  a  scrap  of  paper,  and 
having  learned  them  by  rote,  go  forth  to  cry  them  in  the 
streets.  Nor  do  they  fail  to  mix  in  arguments  of  persua- 
sion, when  speaking  of  the  numbers  of  their  choice. 
"  Twelve  thousand  dollars  for  two,"  say  they ;  "  it  draws 
to-morrow,  and  the  day  after  you  may  come  with  your 
stocking  and  carry  away  the  money,  taking  care  that  it  be 
not  a  Valencian  one — cuidado  que  no  sea  media  de  Valen- 
cia !"  The  reader  will  remember  that  the  stocking  of  a 
Valencian  peasant  is  without  a  foot. 

The  eloquence  and  the  wit  of  these  blind  men,  though  they 
may  sometimes  fail,  are  often  effectual.  I  have  frequently 
seen  a  man,  after  passing  the  lottery-office  resolutely,  pause 
to  listen  to  the  cry  of  the  blind  man,  and  seem  to  reason 
with  himself.  If  he  has  gained  before,  and  stopped  play- 
ing on  that  very  account,  he  asks  himself  why  he  may  not 
be  successful  again.  If,  on  the  contrary,  he  has  been  uni- 
formly unfortunate,  he  meditates  a  moment,  takes  the  paper 
with  rtie  numbers,  and  gives  the  beggar  a  real ;  for  this 
handling  of  the  paper  and  crying  the  numbers  by  the  poor 
is  thought  to  give  luck  ;  then  swearing  that  it  is  the  last 
L3 


244  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

time,  he  unfolds  his  cloak,  takes  out  his  purse,  and  enters 
the  office.  In  this  way,  the  winners  and  losers,  from  the 
most  opposite  motives,  fall  upon  the  same  course.  Now 
the  whole  population  of  Madrid  may  be  divided  into  these 
two  classes.  I  saw  something  of  the  operation  of  this  sys- 
tem in  my  own  house ;  for  Don  Valentin,  though  strictly 
economical,  nay,  more  than  half  a  miser,  was  in  the  con- 
stant practice  of  setting  aside  a  portion  of  the  little  gains 
of  each  month  for  the  purchase  of  lottery-tickets.  His  man- 
ner of  betting,  too,  was  most  extraordinary ;  for  he  always 
bought  quarters,  and  would  thus  spread  four  dollars  over 
eight  tickets.  It  was  impossible  to  convince  him  of  the 
folly  of  this  course,  much  less  could  he  be  persuaded  to 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter.  He  used  always  to 
answer  that  he  had  no  longer  any  hopes  but  in  the  lottery ; 
and  if  Florencia  asked  him  good-humouredly  for  her  dow- 
ry, he  would  pat  her  on  the  cheek — for,  though  ugly  and 
one-eyed,  he  was  yet  affectionate — and  say,  "  En  la  loteria 
esta  hija  mia !"  Nor  was  the  girl  herself  free  from  the 
general  infection ;  for  if  she  ever  got  any  money,  the  first 
thing  was  to  buy  a  pair  of  silk  stockings  or  spangled  shoes, 
and  then  the  rest  took  the  road  to  the  lottery. 

As  for  the  drawing,  it  takes  place  in  a  large  hall  of  the 
Municipality,  dedicated  on  other  occasions  to  the  purposes 
of  justice.  At  one  end  is  a  statue  erected  on  a  dais,  and 
flanked  by  a  painting  of  the  Crucifixion.  Here  presides 
a  counsellor  of  state,  decorated  with  a  variety  of  stars  and 
crosses,  and  supported  by  other  functionaries  of  inferior 
rank.  The  counsellor  sits  at  the  centre  of  a  large  table, 
and  the  officers  of  the  lottery  are  placed  round  on  either 
hand,  with  pens  and  paper.  In  front  of  this  table,  and  in  a 
conspicuous  station  near  the  edge  of  the  platform,  are  two 
large  globes,  which  contain,  one,  the  whole  number  of 
tickets,  the  other,  the  different  prizes.  These  globes  hang 
upon  pivots,  and  are  easily  made  to  vibrate  so  as  to  mix 


A   YEAR  IN   SPAIN.  245 

the  balls  between  each  drawing.  Near  each  globe  a  boy 
is  stationed,  dressed  in  uniform,  and  with  long  sleeves  tied 
tightly  about  the  wrist,  so  as  to  remove  the  possibility 
of  any  fraudulent  substitution.  When  drawing,  the  boy 
who  has  the  numbers  takes  out  one  at  each  rotation,  and 
reads  it  off  distinctly  three  times ;  the  boy  who  has  the 
other  globe  does  the  same,  and  the  balls  are  then  passed 
to  the  officers  who  stand  behind,  by  whom  they  are  again 
called  off,  and  then  strung  upon  iron  rods.  If  the  prizes  be 
high,  both  balls  are  handed  to  the  counsellor,  who  reads 
them  off  three  times  in  a  very  distinct  voice.  These  precau- 
tions are  rendered  necessary  by  the  suspicion  of  the  people, 
who  have  little  conhdence  in  the  honest  intentions  of  gov- 
ernment. It  has  been  said  that  the  unsold  tickets  too  fre- 
quently draw  prizes ;  and  I  even  heard  that  once  such  a 
number  of  prizes  were  drawn,  that  the  avails  of  the  tickets 
sold  would  not  pay  them,  especially  as  the  fourth  part  had 
been  appropriated  in  anticipation  by  the  government,  which 
is  often  in  distress  for  the  smallest  sums.  In  this  critical 
state  of  affairs,  it  was  somehow  contrived  to  overturn  the 
globe  and  spill  the  remaining  tickets,  when  the  functiona- 
ries insisted  that  the  whole  lottery  should  be  drawn  over 
again.  The  high  rank  of  the  presiding  dignitary  renders 
this  story  improbable,  so  far,  at  least,  as  it  charges  him 
with  dishonest  intentions,  but  it  at  all  events  indicates  the 
current  of  public  opinion. 

The  portion  of  the  room  not  occupied  by  the  lottery  was 
open  for  the  admission  of  spectators,  among  whom  I  placed 
myself  on  one  occasion.  Immediately  in  front  of  the  dais 
was  a  small  enclosure,  separated  from  the  rest  by  a  light 
railing,  and  provided  with  benches,  where  the  women 
were  accommodated  as  in  a  public  pound.  They  came  in 
large  numbers,  composed  for  the  most  part  of  the  old  and 
the  ugly.  In  the  rear  was  a  promiscuous  collection  of 
I»en,  some  well  dressed,  more  ragged,  but  nearly  all  with, 
21* 


246  A.  YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

the  wan  and  bloodless  look  of  the  gambler,  if,  indeed,  you 
except  the  priests  in  their  long  hats  and  gloomy  garments, 
who,  secure  against  the  griping  hand  of  poverty,  seemed 
rather  to  play  for  amusement  than  as  if  engaged  in  a  strug- 
gle for  existence.  Most  of  the  spectators  were  furnished 
with  paper  and  pencil,  or  an  inkhorn  hanging  at  the  button, 
to  take  note  of  the  numbers  which  were  drawn.  Nor 
should  the  provisions  for  maintaining  order  be  forgotten. 
They  consisted  of  a  file  of  grenadiers  of  the  Guardias  Es- 
panolas,  who  stood  like  statues  round  the  circuit  of  the 
hall,  with  shouldered  arms  and  fixed  bayonets. 

When  the  drawing  had  commenced,  it  was  a  singular 
scene  to  watch  the  ever-varying  countenances  of  the  game- 
sters. On  hearing  the  first  three  or  four  numbers  of  his 
ticket,  the  face  of  one  of  them  would  suddenly  brighten  ; 
he  would  stretch  his  neck  forward  anxiously,  and  prick  his 
ears  with  expectation.  But  if  the  result  did  not  meet  his 
hopes,  if  the  last  number  were  the  wrong  one,  the  expres- 
sion changed,  and  he  slunk  back  to  hide  his  disappoint- 
ment. If,  however,  the  number  were  indeed  perfect,  for- 
tune was  now  within  his  reach,  and  his  hopes  knew  no 
bounds.  Did  the  prize,  after  all,  prove  an  inferior  one,  he 
bit  his  lips,  and  seemed  vexed  at  the  boy  for  having  made 
so  poor  a  selection. 

As  I  turned  to  quit  this  authorized  den  of  vice  and  wick- 
edness, I  paused  a  moment  at  the  door,  to  carry  away  a 
distinct  impression  of  the  spectacle.  What  a  singular  com- 
bination !  thought  I,  as  my  eye  wandered  over  the  group, 
pausing  now  on  the  priests,  the  soldiers,  the  women,  the 
well  dressed,  the  ragged,  the  officers  of  the  lottery,  the 
richly  clad  representative  of  royalty,  until  at  last  it  fixed  it- 
self upon  the  image  of  Him  who  was  made  from  his  cross 
to  look  down  upon  and  sanction  the  scene,  the  martyred 
founder  of  Christianity ! 

It  were  a  gratuitous  task  to  say  any  thing  of  the  vice  of 


A   YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  247 

this  system  ;  of  the  loss  of  money  and  of  time  which  it  oc- 
casions, principally  to  those  who  can  least  afford  to  lose 
either ;  of  an  almost  equal  loss  which  society  sustains  in 
the  unproductive  employment  of  those  who  live  by  the  lot- 
tery, in  Spain,  as  everywhere,  a  vile  and  worthless  crew 
of  bloodsuckers,  who  prey  upon  the  vitals  of  the  commu- 
nity, or,  worst  of  all,  of  the  baneful  effects  it  must  necessa- 
rily produce  upon  the  public  morals.  These  are  truths 
which  are  present  to  every  mind. 

But  before  quitting  this  subject,  it  may  be  well  to  give 
some  account  of  a  minor  lottery  which  exists  in  Madrid, 
and  which  may  be  considered  a  miniature  of  the  Modern 
Lottery,  inasmuch  as  the  tickets,  instead  of  selling  for  two 
dollars,  cost  but  as  many  cuartos.  This  is  the  Hog  Lot- 
tery, held  at  one  corner  of  the  Puerta  del  Sol,  opposite  the 
Church  of  Buen  Suceso.  There  a  "  memorialista"  has  his 
little  pent-house,  placed  against  the  wall  of  the  corner  shop, 
and  carries  on  the  business  of  selling  the  tickets.  As  the 
memorialista  is  a  very  important  personage  in  Spain,  it,  may 
not  be  amiss  to  say  that  his  employment  is  to  copy  docu- 
ments and  write  letters,  or  draw  up  petitions,  with  a  due 
observance  of  the  forms  and  compliment  in  use  among  his 
countrymen.  As  he  is  far  too  poorly  paid  to  be  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  regular  office,  he  is  content  with  a  small  wooden 
box,  to  which  he  bears  the  same  relation  that  a  tortoise 
does  to  its  shell,  which  may  be  moved  about  with  him  at 
pleasure,  and  which  he  is  allowed  for  a  trifle  to  set  down 
against  a  wall  or  in  a  courtyard.  But  the  memorialistas  are 
by  no  means  such  transitory  beings  as  this  facility  of  loco- 
motion might  imply.  Indeed,  to  look  on  one  of  them,  seat- 
ed in  his  little  tenement,  half  hidden  under  an  old  cocked 
hat  and  black  cloak  as  thin  as  a  cobweb,  and  busily  em- 
ployed in  forming  antique  characters  upon  Moorish  paper, 
with  a  pen  old  enough  to  have  served  Cide  Hamete  Benen- 
geli  in  writing  the  life  and  actions  of  Don  Quixote,  and  ever 


24.8  4.   YEAR   IN   SPAIN. 

and  anon  pausing  and  placing  his  pen  over  the  right  ear, 
while  he  warms  his  fingers  or  lights  his  cigarillo  over  the 
chafing-dish  of  charcoal  beside  him — when  one  sees  this,  I 
say,  he  can  scarce  believe  that  the  memorialista  has  not 
been  thus  occupied  for  at  least  a  century. 

The  most  frequented  stand  of  these  humble  scribes  is  in 
the  rear  of  the  Postoffice.  Here  they  are  ready  throughout 
the  day  to  do  whatever  may  be  required  of  them,  more  es- 
pecially to  expound  letters  just  received  by  the  post,  and  to 
endite  answers  for  such  unlearned  persons  as  can  neither 
read  nor  write,  a  class  sufficiently  numerous  in  Spain. 
They  also  muster  in  force  about  the  purlieus  of  the  palace, 
to  draw  up  petitions  for  those  who  have  business  with  the 
king,  his  ministers,  or  with  the  servants  of  his  household. 
In  truth,  the  memorialista  is  indispensable  in  Spain,  for  no 
business  of  any  kind  can  be  done  there  without  the  inter- 
vention of  a  memorial,  or,  as  it  is  more  frequently  called  in 
the  diminutive,  with  a  view,  perhaps,  to  show  the  modesty 
of  the  supplicant,  a  memorialito. 

To  return  to  the  Gate  of  the  Sun,  whence  we  have  so 
unwittingly  wandered ;  the  memorialista  in  question  was, 
like  the  rest  of  his  fraternity,  a  threadbare,  half-starved 
man,  who  sat  all  day  in  his  humble  pent-house,  selling  the 
tickets  of  the  Hog  Lottery.  He  always  looked  cold  and 
torpid  in  the  morning,  thawing  gradually  towards  noon, 
when  the  sun  got  from  behind  the  portal  of  Buen  Suceso. 
It  was  then,  too,  that  the  idle  frequenters  of  the  Gate  of  the 
Sun  began  to  gather  round  him,  either  to  take  tickets  or  to 
praise  the  good  qualities  of  the  hog,  which  reposed  upon 
straw  in  a  second  shed  beside  that  of  his  master,  and  which. 
was  made  very  unconsciously  the  subject  of  so  much  dis- 
cussion. This  they  might  well  do,  for  the  animal  was  al- 
ways a  choice  one.  In  fact,  the  breed  of  hogs  in  Spain  is 
the  finest  in  the  world,  unless,  perhaps,  their  equals  may 
be  found  in  Africa,  whence  they  came,  for  aught  I  know, 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  249 

though  Mahomet  was  no  pork-eater,  at  the  time  of  the  con- 
quest. The  hog  chosen  as  a  subject  for  the  lottery  was 
always  black,  without  any  hair,  and  enormously  fat,  having 
dimples  in  every  direction,  such  as  are  to  be  found  about 
the  neck  and  chin  of  many  a  stout  gentleman.  His  legs 
were  short,  thin,  and  sinewy,  with  a  well-made  head  and 
curly  tail. 

The  price  of  tickets  in  the  hog-lottery  is  such  as  to  ex- 
clude no  one,  however  poor,  so  that  even  the  mendicants 
can  take  a  chance.  This  is  especially  the  case  with  the 
blind  men,  who,  as  we  have  already  seen,  fare  better  in 
Spain  than  the  rest  of  the  beggarly  fraternity.  When  one 
of  these  happened  to  pass  through  the  Gate  of  the  Sun,  he 
almost  always  went  towards  the  lottery,  winding  his  way 
dexterously  through  the  crowd,  until  he  reached  the  hog- 
pen. He  would  then  feel  round  with  his  staff  for  the  oc- 
cupant, and  when  he  had  recoruoitred  him  sufficiently, 
straightway  give  him  a  poke  under  the  shoulder,  to  try  if 
he  squealed  well ;  for  these  poor  fellows  have  a  thousand 
ways  of  finding  out  tilings  that  we  know  nothing  about. 
If  the  result  answered  his  expectations,  he  came  up  behind, 
and  scratched  him,  tickled  his  ribs,  and  then  twisted  his 
tail,  until  he  squealed  louder  than  ever.  This  done,  to 
pacify  the  irritated  and  now  clamorous  memorialista,  he 
would  go  at  once  and  select  a  number  of  tickets.  Wheii 
all  are  thus  sold,  the  lottery  draws  with  proper  solemnity, 
and  the  successful  player,  well  consoled  for  the  jokes  and 
gibes  of  the  disappointed  multitude,  moves  off  in  triumph 
with  his  prize. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  in  describing  these  things, 
because  any  new  information  on  the  subject  cannot  be  oth- 
erwise than  well  received  in  a  land  where  lotteries  come 
in  for  so  large  a  share  of  the  public  approbation.  We 
have  already  daily  invitations,  in  lame  prose  and  lamer 
poetry,  to  come  at  once  and  be  wealthy ;  nay,  Fortune,  ia 
L3 


250  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

her  gayest  garb,  is  seen  in  every  street,  making  public 
proffers  of  her  favours.  The  system  should  be  carried  to 
perfection.  There  should  be  a  hog-lottery  established  at 
every  corner,  in  order  that  the  matter  may  be  brought  more 
completely  home  to  the  means  and  understanding  of  the 
vulgar. 


CHAPTER  X. 

AN   EXECUTION. 

Plazuela  de  la  Cebada — Its  Ordinary  uses — Present  Appearance — Spanish 
Executions — The  Gallows  and  Verdugo— The  Multitude — Delay — The 
Procession — The  Condemned — The  Friar — The  Catastrophe. 

THERE  was  yet  another  spectacle  which  I  witnessed  in 
Madrid.  It  was  one  of  deep  and  painful  interest,  the  cap- 
ital punishment  of  two  noted  robbers.  The  Diario  of  the 
morning  on  which  it  was  to  take  place  contained  a  short 
notice  that  the  proper  authorities  would  proceed  to  put  to 
death  two  evil-doers,  each  of  whom  was  called  by  two  or 
three  different  names,  at  ten  o'clock,  in  the  Place  of  Barley. 
I  had  already  been  a  spectator  of  a  similar  scene,  and  the 
feeling  of  oppression  and  abasement,  of  utter  disgust,  with 
which  I  came  from  it,  was  such  as  to  make  me  form  a  tacit 
resolution  never  to  be  present  at  another.  As.  I  glanced 
over  the  Diario  on  the  morning  of  the  execution,  the  recol- 
lection of  what  I  had  seen  and  felt  a  few  months  before  in 
Montpelier  was  still  fresh  in  my  memory  ;  but  when  I 
turned  to  reflect  that  I  was  in  a  strange  land,  a  land  which 
I  might  never  revisit,  that  a  scene  of  such  powerful  excite- 
ment could  not  fail  to  elicit  the  unrestrained  feelings  of  the 
multitude,  and  to  bring  the  national  character  into  strong 
relief,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  be  present  on  the  occasion, 
and  to  overcome,  or  at  least  to  stifle,  my  repugnance, 


A  YEAR   IN   SPAIN.  251 

With  this  intention  I  went  just  before  ten  to  the  Prison 
Of  the  Court,  in  the  Place  of  the  Holy  Cross,  whence  the 
criminals  were  to  be  marched  to  the  place  of  execution, 
There  was  a  company  of  Infantry  of  the  Guard  drawn  up 
on  the  square  before  the  prison,  ready  to  act  as  an  escort, 
and  a  crowd  of  people  were  waiting  without  ;  but  as  there 
were  no  immediate  indications  of  a  movement,  I  struck  at 
once  into  the  street  of  Toledo,  and  directed  my  steps  to- 
wards the  Plazuela  de  la  Cebada.  This  is,  on  ordinary  oc- 
casions, one  of  the  principal  markets  in  Madrid.  In  the 
centre  is  a  fountain,  in  representation  of  abundance,  and 
round  it  are  a  variety  of  wooden  tenements,  which  are  oc- 
cupied as  butchers'  stalls,  and  garnished  with  a  lean  and 
ill-dressed  assortment  of  beef  and  mutton.  The  rest  of  the 
area  is  filled  by  market  men  and  women ;  each  surrounded 
by  baskets  of  eggs  or  vegetables,  festooned  with  unsavoury 
chains  of  garlic  ;  or  else  intrenched  behind  conical  heaps 
of  potatoes,  onions,  pomegranates,  tomatoes,  or  oranges. 
Here,  too,  one  might  usually  see  herds  of  hogs,  all  dead, 
yet  standing  stiff  upon  their  legs,  with  each  a  corn-cob  in 
its  mouth,  or  else  hung  straddling  upon  a  barrel,  and  stri- 
ving to  touch  the  pavement  with  its  feet. 

The  company  usually  assembled  in  this  square  is  the 
very  humblest  to  be  found  in  Madrid ;  for  it  is  the  old  and 
ruinous  quarter  of  the  city,  to  which  it  serves  as  a  mar- 
ket and  place  of  congregation.  Furthermore,  it  is  in  this 
neighbourhood  that  one  may  find  the  greasy  dwellings  and 
slaughter-houses  of  the  butchers.  Here,  too,  pass  innumer- 
able carriages,  carts,  and  wagons,  going  to  or  arriving  from 
Toledo,  Talavera,  Aranjuez,  Cordova,  and  Seville ;  not  to 
mention  strings  of  mules  and  asses,  which  are  so  contin- 
ually filing  through  as  to  appear  to  be  moving  in  procession. 
The  greater  part  of  the  market  people  are  inhabitants  of  the 
neighbouring  country.  As  they  do  not  pass  the  night  away 
from  home,  they  have  no  occasion  to  put  up  at  a  posada,  but 


252  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

bring  their  own  barley,  which  they  put  in  bags  and  tie 
about  the  heads  of  their  mules.  As  for  themselves,  they 
either  supply  their  wants  from  saddlebags,  in  which  they 
carry  bread  and  cheese  or  sausages,  with  a  leathern  bottle 
of  wine,  or  else  go  aside  to  the  nearest  corner,  where  there 
is  always  an  old  woman  with  a  portable  furnace  of  earth- 
enware or  iron,  over  which  she  prepares  sundry  greasy 
stews,  in  little  earthen  pucheros. 

Most  of  these  things,  which  rendered  the  Plazuela  on 
ordinary  occasions  so  animated,  were  now  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  The  meat-stalls  were  vacant  and  deserted;  the  bas- 
kets of  vegetables  and  piles  of  fruit  had  been  removed; 
while  the  hogs  had  either  disappeared  entirely,  or  were 
thrown  into  promiscuous  heaps  at  one  side  of  the  Plaza, 
without  much  attention  to  the  symmetrical  arrangement  of 
heads  and  feet.  If,  however,  many  objects  were  missing 
usually  to  be  met  with  in  the  Plaza,  there  was,  in  return, 
one  which  I  had  never  seen  there  before.  This  was  the 
instrument  of  execution. 

There  are  in  Spain  several  modes  of  execution.  The 
least  dishonourable  is  to  be  shot ;  a  death  more  particularly 
reserved  for  the  military.  Another  is  the  "  garrote,"  which 
is  inflicted  by  placing  the  criminal  in  an  iron  chair,  provi- 
ded with  a  collar  which  fits  closely  about  the  neck.  The 
collar  is  then  suddenly  tightened  by  means  of  a  powerful 
screw  or  lever,  and  death  is  instantaneous.  The  garrote 
is  also  inflicted  in  some  parts  of  South  America,  by  placing 
the  culprit  in  the  iron  chair,  as  before,  and  then  introducing 
a  wedge  between  the  collar  and  his  neck,  which  is  broken 
by  a  single  blow  struck  upon  the  wedge  with  a  sledge- 
hammer. The  last  and  most  ignominious  mode  is  hanging 
by  the  neck ;  a  death  more  especially  assigned  to  rob- 
bery, murder,  and  other  ignoble  crimes,  but  which  of  late 
years  has  likewise  been  extended,  with  even  more  than 
the  usual  brutal  indignities,  to  the  crime  of  patriotism.  The 


A    YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  253 

men,  however,  who  were  this  day  to  suffer,  were  of  no  equiv- 
ocal character,  and  no  one  could  either  dispute  or  gainsay 
the  justice  of  that  sentence  which  had  doomed  them  to  die 
upon  the  gallows. 

The  gallows  erected  on  thia  occasion  consisted  of  a 
heavy  oaken  beam,  sustained  in  a  horizontal  position  upon 
vertical  posts  of  still  greater  solidity.  The  ascent  to  the 
gallows  was  effected  by  a  stout  ladder,  or  rather  close  stair, 
which  leaned  upon  the  horizontal  beam,  the  middle  of 
which,  immediately  beside  the  ladder,  was  wound  round 
with  sheepskin,  so  as  to  cover  the  edges  of  the  wood,  and 
prevent  them  from  cutting  the,  ropes  by  a  sudden  friction. 
This  last  precaution,  the  solidity  of  the  structure,  every 
thing,  in  short,  announced  a  determination  that  justice 
should  not  be  cheated  of  its  victims,  nor  they  be  subjected 
to  unnecessary  torture. 

The  approach  to  the  gallows  was  guarded  by  celadores, 
and  no  one  was  allowed  to  come  near  it  but  the  "  verdugo," 
or  hangman,  who,  as  I  arrived  in  the  square,  ascended  the 
ladder  with  four  ropes  in  his  hand,  which  he  adjusted  with 
much  care,  the  whole  four  close  beside  each  other,  round 
the  middle  of  the  beam  where  it  was  covered  with  the 
fleece.  The  office  of  verdugo  is  in  Spain  utterly  disrepu- 
table and  abject.  Formerly  it  was  filled  only  by  Moors, 
Jews,  and  criminals  ;  indeed,  it  is  still  necessary  to  adduce 
evidence  that  one's  ancestors  were  public  executioners  be- 
fore being  admitted  to  the  degradation.  Yet  this  office  is 
not  only  accepted,  but  even  sought  after.  There  was,  in 
fact,  quite  a  concourse  of  competitors  on  a  late  occasion  in 
Granada,  each  proving  that  he  was  descended,  on  the  side 
of  father  or  mother,  from  a  public  hangman.  The  cause  of 
this  singular  fact  is  found  in  another  equally  singular.  In 
Granada  the  verdugo  has  a  certain  tax  upon  all  "  verduras," 
or  greens,  whether  for  soup  or  salad,  which  are  daily  sold 
in  the  public  market.  Hence,  being  secure  of  profit,  he 
22 


254  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

can  afford  to  put  up  with  obloquy.  As  for  the  executioner 
who.  officiated  on  this  occasion,  he  was  a  stout  and  rather  fat 
man,  who  seemed  to  thrive  well,  what  with  good  cheer  and 
idleness.  His  dress  was  a  plain  round  jacket  and  trou- 
sers of  brown.  A  broad  sash  of  red  worsted,  wound  round 
the  middle,  served  instead  of  braces,  and  at  the  same  time 
sustained  a  rotundity  which  seemed  greatly  in  need  of  such 
assistance,  while  an  oilcloth  hat,  with  a  narrow  rim  and 
still  narrower  crown,  but  imperfectly  covered  his  full  and 
bloated  features^  Such  was  the  figure  of  the  executioner. 

The  Plazuela,  though  en  this  occasion  its  ordinary  bus- 
tle and  animation  were  wasting,  was  however  by  no  means 
deserted.  The  balconies  of  the  surrounding  houses  were 
crowded  with  groups  of  either  sex,  formed  into  a  pano- 
ramic view,  probably  not  unlike  what  the  Plaza  Mayor 
may  present  on  the  occasion  of  a  bull-feast.  The  area 
below  was  thronged  by  the  lower  classes,  blended  in  one 
vast  and  motley  collection.  There  was  abundaace  of  sal- 
low mechanics,  tinkers,  and  cobblers,  with  leathern  aprons 
and  dirty  faces ;  or  thin-legged  tailors,  intermingled  with 
gayly-dressed  Andalusians,  or  with  sturdy,  athletic  peasants 
and  muleteers  from  the  neighbouring  plains  of  Castile  and 
La  Mancha.  Other  men  there  were,  standing  apart  and 
singly,  whose  appearance  did  not  indicate  a  particular  pro* 
fession,  and  who,  though  poor  and  ragged,  seemed  too- 
proud  to  be  of  any.  These  were  covered  to  the  nose  in 
tattered  cloaks,  almost  met  by  low  slouched  hats,  between? 
which  their  eyes  wandered  round  with  a  glance  which  be-  . 
trayed  anxiety.  Perhaps  they  were  robbers,  comrades  of 
the  condemned  men  who  were  soon  to  suffer,  with  whom 
they  might  have  taken  part  in  many  a  scene  of  danger  and 
of  guilt ;  but  who,  not  having  as  yet  filled  up  the  measure 
of  their  crimes,  had  come  to  witness  a  fate  which  might 
soon  be  their  own. 

The  conduct  of  this  ill-assorted  crowd  was  not,  how- 


JL   YEAR    IN    SPAIN  255 

ever,  unworthy  ;of  the  occasion.  Those  who  composed  it 
seemed  either  fearful  or  unwilling  to  talk  of  the  many 
crimes  of  the  malefactors,  either  from  a  lingering  awe  of 
them,  or  lest  they  might  be  overheard  by  a  companion. 
Some  stood  alone,  muffled  up  in  their  .cloaks,  grave,  thought- 
ful, and  solemn ;  others  in  silent  groups,  while  here  and 
there  a  countryman  leaned  over  his  motionless  donkey,  di- 
recting his  eyes  in  expectation  along  the  street  of  Toledo. 
No  clamour  was  anywhere  to  be  heard,  except  from  the 
boys  who  were  dispersed  about  the  square,  clambering 
along  the  window-gratings,  so  as  to  overlook  the  heads  of 
the  taller  multitude,  now  quarrelling  for  precedence,  now 
forced,  from  inability  to  cling  longer,  to  let  themselves  down 
and  abandon  stations  which  had  cost  them  so  much  conten- 
tion. There  were  also  a  few  blind  men  singing  a  ballad 
which  they  had  for  sale,  and  which  consisted  of  prayers  for 
the  men  who  were  about  to  die ;  and  now  and  then  a  per- 
son passed  through  the  crowd,  who,  as  a  self-prescribed 
penance,  for  which,  perhaps,  he  took  care  to  be  well  paid, 
went  about  ringing  a  bell  and  begging  cuartos  to  buy  masses 
for  the  souls  of  the  malefactors. 

The  few  moments  employed  in  reaching  the  Plaza  and 
walking  round  it  sufficed  to  make  these  observations  ;  but 
the  arrival  of  the  prisoners  was  much  more  tardy.  Indeed, 
ten  o'clock  went  by,  and  eleven  was  likewise  tolled  from 
the  towers  of  many  surrounding  convents,  without  any  in- 
dication of  their  approach.  The  day  was  cold  and  sunless, 
such  as  in  winter  may  be  found  even  in  Madrid ;  and  the 
air  of  that  chilly,  heartless  kind,  which  sets  at  defiance  our 
endeavours  to  keep  it  out  by  additional  clothing,  and  which 
will  even  find  its  way  to  the  fireside,  coming  over  us  with 
a  feeling  of  misery.  I  began  at  last  to  look  with  anxi- 
ety for  the  coming  of  the  criminals.  But  when  I  came  to 
compare  their  condition  with  ray  own,  I  could  not  but  re- 
proach  myself  for  my  impatience.  "  The  remainder  of 


256  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

their  lives,"  said  I,  "  is  all  condensed  into  the  present  hour, 
and  it,  already  on  the  wane.  This  remnant  of  existence 
may  be  infinitely  valuable  to  them  in  making  their  peace 
with  men,  and  in  seeking  reconciliation  with  Heaven.  And 
yet  you,  who  perhaps  have  years  in  store,  would  rob  them 
even  of  this,  to  relieve  yourself  from  a  short  hour  of  weari- 
ness and  inactivity." 

I  had  before  been  disgusted  only  with  the  scene  around 
me ;  but  now,  becoming  disgusted  with  myself,  I  turned 
away  to  beguile  my  impatience  by  wandering  through  the 
neighbouring  churches.  I  admired  anew  the  vast  dome  of 
San  Domingo,  and  made  once  more  the  circuit  of  the 
convent.  The  cloisters  were  even  colder  than  the  street. 
They  were,  besides,  painted  on  every  side  with  the  actions 
of  the  patron  saint ;  he  who  went  hand  in  hand  with  the 
bloody  Montfort  in  the  persecution  of  the  Albigenses,  be- 
cause they  denied,  some  two  centuries  sooner  than  Luther 
did,  that  the  true  body  of  Jesus  Christ  is  present  in  the  sac- 
rament :  who  founded  the  fanatic  order  which  has  fur- 
nished the  Inquisition  with  many  of  its  most  relentless 
heroes.  Some  of  these  paintings  were  ridiculous,  some 
bloody,  and  some  disgusting.  I  returned  once  more  to  the 
Plaza,  having  gained  but  little  in  the  way  of  equanimity. 

When  I  reached  the  opening  of  the  street  of  Toledo,  and 
glanced  my  eye  over  the  crowd  which  filled  it,  the  multi- 
tude seemed  moved  by  some  new  impulse.  The  women 
in  the  balconies  were  no  longer  saluting  each  other  across 
the  streets,  or  shaking  their  fans  in  recognition  to  those 
who  passed  below.  All  eyes  were  turned  in  one  common 
direction.  The  object  of  this  general  attention  from  the 
balconies  was  not  so  soon  visible  from  the  street  below ; 
indeed,  it  was  some  minutes  after  before  we  discovered,  first 
the  celadores,  with  their  white  belts  and  sabres,  moving 
upward  and  downward,  next  their  horses,  spurred  and 
reined  into  impatience,  in  order  to  intimidate  the  crowd  and 


A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN.  257 

clear  a  way  for  the  coming  of  the  procession.  Behind  the 
celadores  were  soon  after  seen  the  glittering  points  of  many 
bayonets,  vibrating  with  a  measured  motion  from  right  to 
left,  and  only  seeming  to  advance  as  they  grew  higher 
above  the  sea  of  heads  which  intervened,  growing  upward 
and  upward,  until  the  weapons  of  which  they  formed  the 
least  destructive  portion  were  likewise  visible.  Presently 
the  large  bearskin  caps  of  the  grenadiers  emerged,  until  at 
last  the  whole  was  apparent,  to  the  very  feet  of  the  sol- 
diery. It  was  now,  too,  that  might  be  heard,  swelling 
gradually  above  the  hum  of  the  multitude,  the  death  dirge, 
chanted  by  the  humble  monks  who  attended  the  criminals. 

The  soldiers  were  so  arranged  as  to  give  the  crowd  on 
either  side  a  view  of  the  criminals.  They  were  three  in 
number  instead  of  two  ;  but  the  first,  though  an  accomplice 
of  the  others,  had  either  been  found  less  guilty  at  the  trial, 
or  else  had  made  his  peace  with  justice  by  becoming  a  wit- 
ness against  his  companions.  At  all  events,  he  was  not  to 
suffer  death,  but  only  to  be  conducted  under  the  gallows, 
and  remain  there  during  the  execution.  He  was  seated 
upon  an  ass,  with  his  arms  pinioned  beside  him.  His  head 
was  bent  forward,  so  as  nearly  to  touch  the  neck  of  the  an- 
imal, and  his  long  hair,  whose  growth  had  doubtless  been 
cherished  for  the  purpose  during  a  protracted  confinement, 
hung  down  on  every  side,  so  as  to  form  a  complete  veil 
about  his  features ;  for  the  criminal  felt  the  degradation, 
and  dreaded  lest  he  should  be  recognised  at  some  future 
day.  This  was  an  honourable  motive  :  it  seemed,  at  least, 
to  be  so  considered  by  the  crowd ;  for  none  sought  to  in- 
vade the  secrecy  but  one  old  woman,  who  stooped  down  to 
the  ground  as  the  culprit  passed,  and  then  hurried  off  to 
watch  over  the  operation  of  her  furnace  and  puchero. 

The  second  criminal  was  dressed  in  a  shroud  ;  a  living 
man  in  the  garment  of  the  dead.  He  sat  bolt  upright  on  an 
ass,  and  his  feet  were  bound  tightly  together  under  the 
22* 


258  A    YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

belly  of  the  animal,  to  prevent  any  attempt  to  escape  to  the 
churches  which  lay  in  the  way,  and  reach  the  sanctuary  of 
some  privileged  altar.  As  for  his  hands,  they  were  tied 
with  a  cord,  and  made  to  qlasp  a  copper  crucifix  ;  but  when 
it  was  pressed  to  his  lips  by  the  anxious  and  tremulous 
hands  of  the  poor  monk  who  walked  beside  him,  he  refused 
to  kiss  the  image  of  the  Saviour  ;  nay,  he  even  spit  upon  it. 
There  was,  in  fact,  more  of  the  hardened  villain  about  this 
malefactor  than  I  had  ever  before  seen.  He  was  a  small, 
spare  man,  of  a  thin,  sinewy,  and  catlike  conformation,  and 
such  a  cast  of  countenance,  that  had  I  not  seen  him,  I  could 
scarce  have  believed  it  possible  for  human  features  to  wear 
such  an  expression  of  fiendish  malignity.  Wishing  to  learn 
his  story,  I  asked  his  crimes  of  an  old  man  who  stood  be- 
side me.  He  answered  the  question  first  with  a  shrug  and  a 
shudder ;  then  using  an  idiomatic  phrase,  which  has  found 
its  origin  in  the  frequency  of  murder  in  Spain,  he  said,  "  He 
has  made  many  deaths  ;  very  many ! — Ha  hecho  nmchos 
muertos ;  muchisimos !" 

The  third  criminal  was  dressed  like  the  last,  but  his 
looks  and  bearing  were  as  different  as  possible.  He  was 
far  larger  and  stouter  than  his  companion,  stouter  at  least 
in  body,  though  not  in  heart ;  for  while  the  latter  only 
seemed  pale  and  wasted  from  ill  usage  and  confinement, 
this  one  had  besides  that  bloodless,  livid  look,  which  can 
only  be  produced  by  intense  fear.  His  hands  were  not 
bound  to  a  crucifix,  like  the  other,  but  left  at  liberty  to  grasp 
a  hymn,  which  he  was  singing  with  the  friar.  He  had, 
perhaps,  pretended  repentance  and  conversion,  with  a  view 
to  interest  the  clergy  in  his  favour  ;  for  in  Spain,  criminals 
are  often  rescued  by  their  intervention,  even  unde  r  the  gal- 
lows. This  uncertainty  evidently  added  to  his  fear.  It 
was  indeed  a  disgusting,  and  yet  a  piteous  sight,  to'  see  the 
lips  of  the  miserable  man  turned  blue  with  terror,  yet  ear- 
nestly chanting  as  though  his  life  depended  on  the  pierform- 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  259 

ance,  his  hands,  as  they  held  the  paper,  and  every  muscle, 
trembling  in  accompaniment  to  his  broken  and  discordant 
voice. 

The  procession  had  now  filed  into  the  square,  and  taken 
possession  of  the  area  reserved  immediately  about  the  gal- 
lows. The  first  culprit  was  posted  beneath,  and  the  other 
two  were  dismoynted  from  the  backs  of  the  asses,  and  made 
to  sit  upon  the  last  step  of  the  ladder.  The  executioner 
now  came  to  take  possession  of  his  victims.  Getting  upon 
the  stair  next  above  them,  he  grasped  the  smaller  and  more 
guilty  miscreant  under  the  arms,  and  retreated  upward, 
dragging  him  after,  step  by  step,  and  pausing  an  instant  be- 
tween each,  which  was  marked  by  a  vibration  of  the  lad- 
der. At  length  the  executioner  stood  on  the  highest  stair; 
his  victim  was  a  little  lower.  They  had  been  followed  the 
whole  way  by  an  humble  monk,  in  a  loose  garment  of  sack- 
cloth, and  girded  with  a  scourge.  A  long  gray  beard  rested 
upon  his  breast,  while  his  falling  cowl  discovered  a  half- 
naked  head,  shaven  in  imitation  of  the  crown  of  thorns 
worn  by  our  Saviour  in  his  Passion.  He  seemed  deeply 
anxious  that  the  sinful  man  should  not  go  thus  into  the 
presence  of  his  Maker.  Lost  to  every  other  feeling  than 
the  awful  responsibilities  of  the  moment,  the  tremulous  ear- 
nestness of  his  manner  testified  to  the  arguments  and  en- 
treaties with  which  he  urged  the  sinner  to  repentance. 
But  the  heart  of  the  murderer  was  obdurate  to  the  last,  and 
the  crucifix  was  in  vain  pressed  to  his  lips  to  receive  a  part- 
ing salutation. 

The  last  moment  of  his  life  had  now  arrived.  The  exe- 
cutioner took  two  of  the  cords  which  dangled  from  the  beam, 
and  having  once  more  convinced  himself  that  they  were 
of  equal  length,  he  opened  the  nooses,  and  placed  them 
about  the  neck  of  the  malefactor.  This  done,  he  let  him- 
self down  a  single  step,  and  seating  himself  firmly  upon 
the  shoulders  of  his  victim,  he  grasped  him  tightly  about 


260  A   YEAR   IN    SPAIN. 

the  neck  with  his  legs.  He  then  drew  powerfully  upon  the 
cords.  The  strangling  malefactor  made  a  convulsive  but 
ineffectual  attempt  to  reach  upward  with  his  pinioned  arms, 
and  then  writhed  his  body  to  escape  from  the  torture. 
This  moment  was  seized  upon  by  the  executioner,  who  threw 
himself  over  the  edge  of  the  ladder,  when  both  fell  down- 
ward together.  They  had  nearly  turned  over,  when  the 
ropes  arrested  their  fall,  and,  as  they  tightened,  they  struck 
across  the  face  of  the  executioner,  and  threw  his  hat  aside 
among  the  crowd.  But  he  clung  to  his  prey  with  a  reso- 
lute grasp,  recovered  his  seat,  and  moved  upward  and 
downward  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  malefactor.  Nor  was 
he  left  to  his  own  efforts  ;  his  assistants  below  reached  the 
legs  of  the  victim,  and  drew  them  downward  with  all  their 
might. 

When  this  had  continued  a  few  minutes,  the  executioner 
stood  erect  upon  the  shoulders  of  his  victim,  and  attempted 
to  climb  up  by  the  cords,  as  he  probably  had  been  wont  to 
do  ;  but  whether  he  had  been  stunned  by  the  stroke  of  the 
ropes,  or  had  grown  heavier  and  less  active  since  the  last 
execution,  his  attempt  proved  abortive,  and  the  loud  cries 
of  the  multitude,  outraged  at  the  brutality,  restrained  him 
from  a  second  effort.  He  then  slid  down  by  the  body  and 
legs  of  the  criminal,  until  his  feet  rested  upon  the  ground, 
and  having  tied  a  rope  about  the  ankles  of  the  dead  man, 
he  was  drawn  aside  so  as  to  make  room  for  his  companion. 

Meantime  the  remaining  malefactor  had  continued  at  the 
foot  of  the  ladder,  singing  with  his  confessor  a  hymn, 
which  made  a  singular  and  fearful  accompaniment  to  the 
scene  which  was  going  on  behind  them.  But  his  respite  was 
a  short  one ;  the  impatient  hands  of  the  executioner  were 
soon  upon  Mm,  lifting  him  step  by  step,  as  had  been  done 
with  his  companion.  The  dreadful  uncertainty  whether 
he  were  indeed  to  die  seemed  still  to  cling  to  him,  and  he 
strained  his  voice  and  chanted  louder  than  ever.  Before 


A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN.  261 

the  ropes  were  put  round  him  he  kissed  the  cross  with  a 
greedy  eagerness,  and  then  uttered  his  creed  with  great 
volubility,  until  a  jerk  of  the  executioner  broke  at  once 
upon  his  chant  and  upon  the  delusive  hope  of  pardon. 
Executioner  and  malefactor  went  off  as  before,  and  the  lat- 
ter was  straightened  and  stretched,  like  the  blackened 
corse  which  hung  stiff  and  motionless  at  his  side. 

The  conduct  of  the  crowd  was  singularly  solemn.  As 
each  victim  plunged  downward  from  the  gallows,  there 
was  a  tremulous  murmur  upon  every  lip,  ejaculating  a  short 
prayer  for  the  peace'of  the  guilty  soul  which  was  then  en- 
tering upon  eternity.  The  cloaks  of  all  were  unfolded, 
and,  as  their  lips  moved  in  supplication,  each  crossed  him- 
self devoutly.  These  feelings,  however,  were  not  shared  by 
the  executioner.  They  might,  perhaps,  have  been  banished 
by  the  active  part  he  had  taken  in  the  execution ;  or  else 
they  were  ever  strangers  to  his  breast.  No  sooner,  indeed, 
had  he  descended  the  last  time,  than  he  turned  leisurely  to 
readjust  his  disordered  dress.  He  also  recovered  his  hat, 
pushed  out.  a  dent  which  the  rope  had  made  in  it ;  then 
taking  a  half-smoked  cigarillo  from  under  the  band,  he 
struck  a  light  and  commenced  smoking.  I  even  fancied, 
as  he  looked  round  upon  his  victims,  that  the  expression 
of  his  face  was  not  unallied  to  satisfaction.  Dreadful  pro- 
pensity of  our  nature,  which  often  leads  us  to  exult  in  the 
vilest  deeds,  provided  they  be  adroitly  executed  ! 

The  crowd  now  began  to  disperse.  Such  as  had  asses 
mounted  them  and  rode  away ;  others  rolled  themselves  in 
their  cloaks  and  departed.  Nor  did  I  linger,  but  moved  off 
in  a  state  of  mind  which  none  need  envy.  I  experienced 
a  return  of  the  same  sickly  feeling  of  disgust  with  mankind 
and  myself  with  which  I  had  once  risen  from  the  reading 
of  Rousseau's  Confessions.  Surely  there  can  be  nothing 
in  such  a  spectacle  to  promote  morality,  nothing  to  make  us 
either  better  or  happier :  a  spectacle  which  serves  but  to 


262  A   YEAR    IN    SPAIN. 

create  despondency,  and  to  array  man  in  enmity  with  his 
condition. 

I  hurried  at  once  from  the  spot,  determined  to  seek  some 
society  which  might  rid  me  of  my  thoughts  and  reconcile 
me  to  my  species.  On  turning  to  leave  the  square  at  the 
Calle  Toledo,  I  paused  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  now  life- 
less malefactors.  The  first  executed  had  been  loosened 
from  the  post  to  which  his  feet  were  bound,  and  his  body 
still  continued  to  knock  against  and  revolve  round  that  of  his 
companion.  However  closely  associated  they  might  once 
have  been  in  crime,  they  were  now  more  closely  associa- 
ted in  retribution.  It  was  now,  too,  that  I  remembered  that 
the  same  Plaza  and  the  same  gallows  had  known  other  and 
very  different  victims  —  that  along  this  very  street  the  purest 
and  bravest  of  Spanish  patriots  had  been  drawn  to  execu- 
tion on  a  hurdle  ;  nay,  it  was  more  than  likely  I  had  seen 
the  very  executioner  who  had  ridden  upon  the  shoulders  of 
Riego  ! 

.••    •'!  ?'..'-*  ;  V   / 

' 


END   OF   VOL.   I. 


DATE  DUE 


CAYLORD 


PRINTED  IN  U   S  A 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  884  240     3 


